Soul Of A Dragon
by PersnicKty2018
Summary: Astrid is picture perfect, only, she's not. And now she has to worry about the most feared and mysterious Dragon out there who is downed, hidden in the forest...and just happens to know the secret that could get her killed.
1. How To Meet A Night Fury

We're a simple people, really. We've got all of our warriors, our seven generations of ancestors, our homes, and our lives, but that doesn't stop Berk from being the most _un-_simple place in the world.

You see, the reason for that was because we had-

I quickly dive under a large line of fire, rolling back to a fighting stance.

"Dragons," I snarl, glaring at the freak of nature in front of my eyes.

Only, they're not Dragons. Well, they are, but they aren't. Does that make sense? No? Well, keep up.

Real Dragons, or, as we call them, Ancestral Dragons, died out a long time ago. Us Vikings tended to war with the Ancestral Dragons, and eventually, their numbers dwindled down to nothing. But then they returned in the way least expected; they took over our minds. A Viking can't help Bonding, it's something that happens. An Ancestral Dragon will Bond with a Viking, taking over his or her mind while the Viking is left to Turn into a half-human half-Dragon hybrid, with wings, claws, and the eyes of a soulless monster.

It's terrifying.

But, us being stubborn as we are, refused to let Dragons take over, so we fought them.

This Dragon is a Gronkle, a Boulder Class Dragon with hide thick as rock and the molten fire of a volcano. They're tough, but not impossible. This one is young, maybe a few years older than me. She is very heavily built with small, ugly brown wings, yellow slit eyes, and claws outstretched, ready for the kill.

_It._ It, not _she._

Even though the former Viking is obviously female, Dragons don't get genders. They have no mind and they are always 'its.' They. Are. Not. Human. That's what is drilled into our minds at training.

"Come and get me, if you dare," I remark dangerously.

The Gronkle growls, but I roar back at it, charging with my battle axe swung high in the air.

It recognizes a warrior superior to it and flies off after gobbling up a pile of fish.

I snarl again, glaring at its retreating form. Another Dragon will have to pay for that.

Suddenly, I sense another being landing behind me, and I freeze.

I slowly turn around, eyes wide against my will.

The Deadly Nadder is about ten yards away from me.

Deadly Nadders. The actual Dragon is very common and can be easily taken down, but they weren't just another Dragon to me. This was the species that killed my parents.

In the dark, the Nadder's patches of scales and wings are a dark shade of purple, and its eyes are glowing yellow. Its large, pointed wings are folded downwards. All the wings of Dragon species seem to be different. The Nadders' wings are always attached to its arms, but they are big enough so when they fly they don't look like an idiot. But they are still terrifying to me.

The Nadder cackles and cocks its head at me.

Suddenly, its head shoots up and its spiked tail raises high.

"Aaaaarrrrgh!" I hear a vicious battle cry behind me, and I am shoved out of the way.

"What do you think you are you doing?" Eret, son of Eret (whoever came up with his name should be tied to a mast and shipped off to fall off the edge of the world), quickly charges in, giving the Nadder a loud punch to the side of its face. It caws in pain and shoots up in the air.

I catch my breath on the floor.

"You alright, Hofferson?" Eret asks.

I nod, taking a deep breath.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were afraid of Nadders," he smiles teasingly.

"Shut up, Eret," I growl, making sure my arm wraps are still tightly secured before picking myself up and heaving my axe out of the ground.

"Easy there, don't bite my head off," he laughs and starts to run off. "You're welcome for saving your life!"

I don't remember thanking him, but Eret's always like that. Eret is a bit older than all of the other teens, but he's easily respected and second-best in class. Well of course _I'm _the best in class, did you expect anything else?

Suddenly, I hear more Vikings coming around the corner, and I quickly run off to find the village blacksmith, Gobber, who also happens to be the only thing remotely close to family I have.

"Well, nice of you to join the party," he greets in his heavy Scottish accent. He waves his one hand, the one missing a limb and in its place a large hammer bigger than the circumference of my entire head.

"You know me," I smirk, picking up a pile of twisted and contorted swords and dropping them in the bed of coals. "Always the Dragon killer."

"What else would you expect?" Gobber chuckles and goes back to slamming his hammer down on the sword.

When I wasn't out fighting Dragons, I enjoyed working under Gobber's hand, helping out in the forge and learning the craft. I had even made a few of my own inventions but they never seemed to work out too much.

I jump down on the blower to heat the coals, and just as I do, an eerily high pitched sound rises in volume and warning.

I glance up quickly.

Every Viking knows what that sound means. That's the cry of a-

"Night Fury!" a Viking cries out.

"Get down!" shouts another.

"Jump!" yells Stoick the Vast, chief of the tribe, as he leaps off the surface of the large structure he had previously been standing on. Just in time, too, as a ring of blue fire spans out and the building catches fire, collapsing to the ground.

I had never caught a glimpse of even the silhouette of the acclaimed Night Fury before. No one had.

I don't know why, but the beast intrigued me. It never stole food, never showed itself and never, ever missed.

Another of our structures is sent tumbling to the ground as the Night Fury strikes again.

I glance around, twisting my mouth into a thin, hard line. Nobody has ever killed a Night Fury. It is said to be impossible. They are smarter, faster, and superior in every way to all Draconic kind.

I glance down at my lower arms, which are still snug in their arm wrappings. My arms are itching in the wool but I don't dare touch them.

I narrow my eyes before going back to work.

* * *

><p>My axe hits its target dead center with a satisfying <em>thunk.<em>

I growl, yanking it out and hurling it into another tree.

Again.

Yank, aim, hurl, _thunk!_ repeat.

I had just gotten "the talk" again.

Gobber wanted me to be successful, and a maiden cannot be successful without a warrior. Screw that! I'm a warrior, too! I can take care of myself! That and the only variety I have is Eret, Snotlout, Tuffnut, and Fishlegs, and that does not sit too well with me.

With a ferocious scream, I hurl my axe as hard as I possibly can and it digs deep into the tree.

I storm over and yank on it, but it doesn't budge.

"Great," I murmur.

My arms are really itching now. It's so bad that it's starting to burn.

I look around, even though I know no one will be roaming around here. Even Bucket had never been this far with his aimless wandering.

No one was around, I could breathe.

I cautiously begun to unwrap my arm wrappings, grimacing at the sight it revealed.

Now, I am not weak. And I am not afraid of Dragons. But that doesn't stop people from pitying me. My parents, killed by Deadly Nadders when I was seven, and I lost my last living relative when my Uncle Finn Bonded with an Ancestral Flightmare.

I am not weak. Both times, I watched my family ripped from me. I was a baby when Berk was attacked. It was any normal day. But I can still remember the flashing magnesium flames and the clicking of the Nadder's tails when they rattled as they flew off, taking my parent's limp bodies with them.

I never told anyone this, but I watched my Uncle Turn.

I watched his transparent wings sprout from his arched back, I watched his claws unsheathe from his hands as if they had been there all along...I watched his eyes slowly dilate until they were no longer human, but a bright, glowing blue. All while he still _looked_ partially human.

I may not have ever told anyone that, but it was not my biggest secret at that time.

My secret was that I had thought him beautiful.

But how could Dragons be beautiful? I mean, I was peeking through my bedroom door, praying to the Gods that he wouldn't tear the door down and find me, and yet there I was, thinking that the beast he had turned into was beautiful.

Up until a few weeks ago, that was my biggest secret.

And those few weeks ago was when everything, and I mean _everything, _changed.

The small, skin-colored scales on the insides of my wrists were growing.

They're no longer skin-colored, but turning into an off-white, becoming rough to the touch.

Yes. I was Bonding with an Ancestral Dragon.

Turning was never known before to be this slow. My uncle had taken three days to Turn. I am on week four and I still don't know which Ancestral Dragon I am Bonding with.

Not that I care, but, you know, it'd just be kind of nice to know what kind of monster is trying to possess you.

But I won't let it happen. Maybe it was taking this long because I was strong enough to fight it. Yes, that was it. Because I am strong.

I will not let any beast take over me, I am me and I want what is mine. I will not let anyone- Viking or Dragon, claim me as their own.

I choke back a struggling sound as I stare at the scales.

But the weird part is, the fact that I'm Bonding isn't even my biggest secret, even though I would certainly be exiled or even killed the moment anyone found out.

No.

The secret that I will guard with my life above everything else is that I, Astrid Hofferson, am purely, and utterly terrified.

* * *

><p>Something snaps in the distance and I shoot up.<p>

I stand still and listen with my eyes focused on the ground.

What was that? Nobody could be here. Could they have seen...?

No. It wasn't possible.

Suddenly, something small flutters down and lands on my shoulder.

I brush it off, but then I notice that it's a leaf.

What? But, there was no wind...

I gradually look up.

The first thing I see is a startlingly green pair of eyes.

_Sonofahalf-trollrat-eatingmungebucket...!_

The Dragon leaps down on top of me, growling.

The Dragon and I both fall and tumble down a hill that I had somehow managed to miss earlier on.

It's tail whips around and smacks me in the face and my vision goes dark for a second.

We stop rolling and with luck on my side, I manage to kick the black Dragon in the head. _Hard._

It warbles in confusion and is down for a second.

I get up and run away as fast as I can back up the hill. It's a good thing I'm not really thinking, just reacting. I had yet to grasp the concept that I was actually being attacked by a Dragon.

Then it hits me.

_Oh Gods. I'm being attacked by a _Dragon_!_

My training with Gobber kicks in, and I really wish I had a shield right now. I reach the grove of trees I had been practicing in, eyes darting back and forth searching for a particular tree.

_Just need to get to my axe..._

When I find it, I pull at the handle but it's still stuck.

I hear the Dragon roar as it recovers. No doubt it's headed back this way!

"Come on, not now!" I curse and yank as hard as I can.

Something in my arm pops and I scream in pain, but my axe is free.

The Dragon comes back.

As it leaps, I finally see it clearly for the first time.

It was black as the night, with green slit eyes, which were a little unusual, as most Dragons have yellow or gold eyes. It was male and was completely covered in black scales. Or maybe it was just dirt... I couldn't pay attention to detail very well as he was _attacking_ me, all I knew was that his clothes were black, his face and hair were black, and that he had those piercing green eyes.

I grunt as I swing my axe right when he leaps close enough.

The Dragon cries out and rockets into the sky.

Suddenly, I see it circling back.

A hauntingly familiar screech fills the air.

Oh my Gods. Don't tell me. Was that a...?

My suspicions are confirmed when a blue plasma blast hits directly in front of me, blowing me back about ten feet like a rag doll.

I land on my already injured arm with a sickening crunch.

I shriek, but I black out before anyone could hear it.

Right before I do, I catch sight of a tan bundle discarded on the forest floor.

_Oh great Thor, he saw..._

* * *

><p>I wake while the sun is still up.<p>

My arm is aching but I can't think too much of it. I need to get back. Why did my arm hurt so much again?

It takes me five minutes to get up without having my head spinning, and another thirty minutes to get my arm wrappings back on enough so that they won't slip and will cover my developing scales.. I bite my lip so hard that I taste blood.

I then grab my axe with my uninjured hand.

Great. It just had to be my right arm. I'm right-handed! What am I going to do for training? And if there's another attack tonight?

I groan when the sunlight touches my eyes, but I blink it away. I need to get back.

I slowly start to trudge back towards Berk, wincing whenever my arm bumps against something, including my own self.

Gobber sees me and stifles a chuckle. But he freezes when he catches sight of my right arm hanging limply at my side.

"By the Gods, Astrid, what'd you do?" he demands.

"Threw my shoulder out in target practice." I hope my grimacing face hides the lie well enough.

"Are you going to be okay for training?"

"Yes," I immediately say.

He grabs my right forearm and I jerk my hand back.

Yes, it hurt, but no one- _no one_- ever got to touch my arms.

"You're not okay," he sighed.

"I-I'm fine." I decline.

"You're gonna need a few days off. Go see Gothi."

"No," I protest. I don't _need _to go see Gothi! I'm perfectly fine- ow, I just whacked my arm against the table in my fit.

"You need to start thinking of yourself! Stop being all..." he waves his hands- er, hand- around, gesturing to all of me, "this."

"But you just gestured to all of me!" I argue.

"Yes!" he says brightly, as if I had just given him the answer. "Stop being all of you."

"Oh," I say threateningly, squaring my shoulders and glaring up at him.

"Oh," he repeats, mocking me.

"You, sir, are playing a very dangerous game," I warn. "Keeping _me_ contained? There'll be consequences!"

"I'll take my chances," he deadpans, unimpressed with my petite frame. Actually, he knows that I could take down a Viking twice my size. I'd done it before. He just knows that I would never actually harm him. Curse that one-legged, one-handed Viking!

I huff.

He holds out his hand and says, "Axe."

I reluctantly hand it over.

"Gothi's. Now," he orders and waddles back inside the forge.

I cross my arms and stalk off.

I don't go to the village elder. Instead, I walk around Berk, avoiding Gobber and observing the town.

I catch some Vikings giving me pitying stares, but I glare at them and they look away.

Really. It's not _that _common to be the last of your bloodline! I mean, look at Chief Stoick. His wife Bonded and took their only son when she left, he was all alone.

I don't need anyone pitying me, nor do I want them to. I'll prove myself in the ring, I'll get to kill that Dragon. And then they'll see who's weak.

I. Am. Not. Weak.

I growl softly to myself and slip into the shadows.

For some reason, a pair of green eyes comes to my mind while I'm in the shadows.

Why would...?

Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

This can't be happening!

I gasp as I finally remember what happened.

_He_ knows. He had been watching me from above, there's no way he wouldn't have seen my scales! Maybe he was a Dragon but when I said no one could know, that meant _no one_ could know.

The Dragon couldn't live. I decided that then and there... But nobody had ever killed a Night Fury before.

Guess that means I'm going to be the first.

The only problem is that I am severely handicapped and can't throw a piece of rope with my left hand if my life depended on it.

Hmm...good thing I know of something else that can do it for me...

* * *

><p>"Astrid is to stay. Put. There," Gobber points with his hammer hand at me, and I blow my bangs out of my face.<p>

Stoick looks at me. For a moment, I think he'll disagree, say that I can fight, give me the go-ahead to run out into a very dangerous battleground. We're Vikings, right? It's an occupational hazard.

"You heard Gobber. Stay in the forge," he tells me gruffly.

"But that's not fair!" I shout.

"Too bad, lass. With your arm, you wouldn't last a minute out there," Gobber says, resting his hand on my shoulder.

I shake it off.

"Bet you I would," I grumble.

How is this fair? The one night I _need _go out there I just happen to get my arm broken? Or, severely strained, I don't really know seeing as I never actually went to Gothi's. Shh, don't tell Gobber...

I adjust my arm in the cloth sling I had scavenged together and made my way angrily towards the forge.

I needed that Night Fury dead. There just wasn't any other way.

"Stupid, no good, pointless-" I cut off when I get to the forge.

It's dark out now and there could be an attack at any second.

Maybe there won't be any tonight.

I spoke too soon.

The first fire ball of the night explodes down as Gronkle after Gronkle shoot their lava blasts down at us.

Dragons vary differently from Ancestral Dragons. Seeing as they're not fully an Ancestral Dragon, they do not possess the full qualities of their species. Sure they have heightened strength, stamina, and senses, with wings, claws, tails, and the eyes, but they're still tied down with their human lineage. Of course, no human I know of can produce a Dragon's fire through their hands, except for, well, you know, an actual _Dragon._

But that's besides the point.

I groan in frustration when some Vikings dump their broken and disfigured weapons down to be fixed, running off with new ones.

Why did I have to throw my shoulder out when I needed it?

I watch with envy as the other teens go shuffling out to help. Fishlegs is a little awkward, but he knows his Dragons, that's for sure. Snotlout is the very annoying, very vain Viking who has yet to do anything but boast. The twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut, are too obsessed with violence- particularly towards each other- to take anything seriously.

And then there's Eret, but you already know about him.

"Ow, ow, ow!" I cry as I accidentally rest my injured arm down on a hot coal. I may have the grace and elegance of a true shield maiden, but that doesn't mean I'm not just the tiniest bit of a klutz when I'm off the battlefield.

I'm nursing my hand when I hear it.

The Night Fury's cry.

"Night Fury!"

"Get down!"

All the usual warnings. Sometimes, I think Vikings skipped out in their creativity genes.

"Hold down the fort, Astrid," Gobber tells me. "They need me out there."

I cross my arms and glare at him.

"Stay," he warns me. "You're not ready to go back out."

"Whatever," I say, turning back to sharpening a sword.

He shakes his head and sighs before running out.

I keep my eyes trained on the sword for a moment longer, just to make sure he's really gone.

The moment I'm sure, I throw the sword away and race to the back of the forge, where the bola I had created the other day was hiding.

I smiled, glancing down at it.

"You, my friend," I say, "are going to be my ticket to freedom."

I pat it, and at that time, it goes off and hits a Viking square in the face. I cringe.

"Oops."

Okay, so it has some mild calibration issues. I could fix that...probably.

"Sorry!" I call as I direct the bola through the crowd of raging Vikings. Most just yell at me to get back inside, as I'm pushing it with one hand.

"I'll be right back!" I tell them, narrowly avoiding a Monstrous Nightmare's line of fire.

I hear something explode behind me, and I know the Night Fury is close.

I quickly set the bola up (well, as quickly as I can with one arm) and aim into the night.

"Come on, give me something to shoot at, give me something to shoot at," I chant/mumble to myself, searching the sky for any signs of flight.

I could have sworn that I saw the outline of a boy with wings in the stars, but I couldn't be sure.

Suddenly, the Night Fury releases a deadly plasma blast, screeching as it whistles by.

I aim at what I think is the Night Fury, and the bola's force knocks me back.

I grimace when my arm knocks to the ground. I probably set my time of healing back a couple more weeks. Great.

But that's pushed to the back of my mind when I hear a shocking scream.

I see the vague outline of something go down, jetting to the trees on the horizon.

I hit it!

Then why did I feel so, what was the word, disappointed? Sad? No. I couldn't figure it out.

That scream... It was awful.

_Pull yourself together, Astrid, it just was the scream of Dragon._

All the same, that scream sent shivers down my spine, and it brought Goosebumps to my arms. Why I have no idea. All I know is that it haunted me.

Maybe it was because that Dragon's scream sounded almost human.

* * *

><p><strong>Hello! Thank you so much for reading my start, I hope it was entertaining! Anyways, my updating will be vague, unfortunately. But I will try to update every...Thursday, let's say, just because that day is bad as it is so let's give it something to look forward to! I might be able to update on the weekends, too, but school is busy so I have barely any time.<strong>

**Thanks again, and please let me know what you think! Feel free to review, Follow, Favorite, whatever. Chapter 2 might be up this weekend but if not, see you Thursday!**


	2. How To Live To Tell The Tale

Oh, I was going to be in so much trouble with Gobber when I got back!

But I didn't care. All I was worried about was finding that Night Fury.

There was just one problem. I had been out in these cursed woods for over two hours and I still hadn't found anything remotely close to a Dragon. How hard could it be to find one in all these woods? Okay, point taken.

"Oh, the Gods hate me," I mutter, kicking around a stone. "Most Vikings have trouble with an axe or a sword, no, not me, I have to deal with an entire Dragon!"

I angrily hit a branch out of my way, and it comes to ricochet back and hit my face.

Luckily, my quick reflexes stop it.

And that was with my left hand, beat that, Snotlout!

I find myself eerily smug, and continue to stumble down the uneven ground.

But something stops me in my tracks; there is red on the ground.

It's blood.

I quickly snatch for my axe, but in my hurried state I realize that I had forgot it. The only weapon I had was a skimpy dagger. Odin, this will be interesting.

I narrow my eyes and take a deep breath. I had hit him, so the Dragon would be injured. All it took was one swift plunge and it was over. My secret would go with me to the grave. Or the end of my humanity. Whichever one came first.

"Come on, Astrid, no turning back," I tell myself.

I step from behind the rock and stare at the sight before me, and let me tell you, it was not a pleasant sight.

Any normal Viking would be mangled, bruised, or dead, but all he had was blood caked down one side of his face. I would have grimaced but then I remembered that it was a _Dragon _and I was here to _kill it._

It looked different. He had cleaned up somehow, but his clothes made him look worse for wear.

His black clothing was completely torn. It would have been impossible to tell that he even had a shirt in the first place if not for a: I had seen him just two days ago with one and b: the scraps of black cloth that edged around his shoulders and torso. His pants were ruined but intact, and he wore no shoes. That had to be tough, Berk wasn't known for its cheery weather and sunshine, after all.

The Dragon was on its stomach, its large black wings jutting out from its shoulders were pinned in an uncomfortable-looking position with the ropes, and its claws were dug deep into the ground, as if it were holding onto it for dear life.

If not for the uneven and raspy rise and fall of his chest, I would have thought him dead.

I slowly and cautiously approached him. Maybe I could just...

Big mistake when I chose to look at its face.

The Dragon was actually very scrawny, but most definitely muscular, as he was a Dragon. His face looked like it was still developing with scatters of freckles. His brown hair was overgrown but not long, with black ear folds protruding where his normal ears should be. His tail stretched back a ways, but it was his green eyes that once again gave me a start.

The way it was positioned said, 'Get away from me,' but the eyes pleaded 'please don't leave me here.'

In all honesty, it looked...terrified.

But that was ridiculous. Dragons don't get scared.

I squeeze my eyes shut and lift the dagger above my head.

"I'm gonna kill you, Dragon," I whisper. "You have to die. No one can know my secret. _No one can know!_" I raise my voice and glare at the Dragon.

He moans and stares at me, slowly blinking.

"I have to kill you," I tell it softly.

He blinks again and stares at me, pleading me.

"I have to," I say, hating that I sound almost regretful.

Come on. I had fought hundreds of Dragons in training. This one was just finishing the job. I could do this. I _will _do this.

I take another deep breath and raise the dagger.

I hear the Dragon moan again. He sure sounds in pain...

_End it already._

I bring the dagger down.

* * *

><p>I'm not sure what was going on in the Dragon's mind. For some reason, they always fascinated me. But Dragons were Dragons and Vikings were Vikings, they were supposed to hate each other. I had lost my entire family to Dragons, I should hate them with a burning passion.<p>

But the truth is, I only hate them because I'm supposed to hate them. No more, no less.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to fly. Would it be worth giving up everything? But how could it? Bonding messes with your mind, that's what I conclude. It tricks your mind into thinking that you're not turning into a monster, that you're becoming something better.

But you are going to turn into a beast. You are going to forget your life, your past, your friends, family, tribe, village, everything. The monster turns you against it all. You go from a Dragon-hating Viking to a Viking-hating Dragon. Maybe that's just the way the world works, but there are some things that you just can't accept.

I didn't want to lose my mind, I didn't ask for this, I didn't want this. I was perfect. But I am most definitely not anymore.

All because of a monster growing inside of me and appearing on the insides of my wrists, contained by thick wool wrappings.

Maybe it's impossible to conquer it. Maybe I'm just fighting a losing battle that I have no hope of winning and maybe I'll just end up hating everything in the world.

Maybe I should just kill myself and give in to, well, everything.

That may sound like a better option to most Vikings, but really, to me, that would be giving up.

I won't give up. I _can't _give up.

I can't accept this fate that the Gods have given me, I have to make my own path, because I will not be a monster.

But no matter how hard I fight, it's there. The monster that refuses to fade away. It calls softly to me to give in, to give it myself. To make me forget everything.

And the only way to fend it off is to fight it. Fight it with everything you have.

That's what I was doing.

And it still wasn't enough to keep me from bringing that knife down, not into the Dragon's heart, but into the earth beside it.

* * *

><p>I exhale a large breath and stare at the ground.<p>

_I did this..._

How weak they would think of me now. Astrid the Dragon-lover, Astrid the Weak, Astrid the Useless, Astrid, who couldn't kill a Dragon. What would happen? This Dragon couldn't live. And I didn't kill it.

I looked down at it, the Dragon with the human form, and I just couldn't force myself to drop the dagger down into its heart.

Even though it was a beast, it was still _human, _despite what others have told me.

I breathe out a sigh, shaking my head.

I cannot believe I'm doing this.

"You got lucky, Night Fury," I whisper, but I can't find it in me to pack my words with venom.

I start to walk away, and I hear him breathing. That had been a lot of blood.

"Astrid, you are gonna get yourself killed," I warn. "Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it..."

Yet, suddenly, I find myself stepping back and snapping the ropes off of the Dragon, freeing his hands, then legs. He really had been bleeding a lot...

With a loud crash, I suddenly felt my back slam into a rock, and rough but abnormally warm hands clasp my throat. I quickly claw at the warm hands, but they don't budge.

I cough out once, but no more. This Dragon will not get the best of me.

I meet its gaze, full force.

That stupid, useless, half-reptile. I save his life and he's going to pay me back like this? Then again, I'm the one who shot him down in the first place.

It stares into my eyes, its own green ones were so close to me.

Its eyes are even more green up close. The slits are purely animalistic, filled with hunger and instinct. We were always told that Dragons could not feel human emotions, that they couldn't think. All they could do was react. But this Dragon was captivating me just with its eyes.

Every second or so, its nose would crinkle up in a snarl, its pointed teeth bared, clearly marking it as something that was beyond the realm of Vikings. This thing, it was not human.

Blood was caked on the side of the Dragon's face from where it had landed, and I almost felt sorry- if it hadn't been a _Dragon _that was trying to kill me. That fall must have hurt, even with its heightened strength. Nobody was invincible; Dragon or Viking.

How strange that in times like these, I still find Dragons fascinating creatures. There must be something wrong with me, for admiring the beast that is surely going to kill me.

I sigh, giving the monster one last icy cold glare before slouching, shutting my eyes. He would not get the pleasure of seeing my terror as he killed me. Perhaps he would claw my heart out and eat it, or he would blast me into oblivion with one deadly plasma blast from his palms wrapped around my throat.

This is what I get for helping a Dragon...

But then, the hands cooled down, and I snapped my eyes open. What? Was he just going to tear me open? I thought Night Furies loved their plasma blasts. They never missed, after all.

Except...this one had missed. I realized that now. When he had shot me from the skies, I had lived.

No one had ever met a Night Fury and lived to tell the tale.

But if that were so, then how did anyone know about them in the first place? Perhaps they weren't always mindless beasts. And I was still alive, right? Maybe not for long. Maybe the stories were right.

I look up to find that the Night Fury's eyes had dilated into squared pupils, making it look much less threatening.

My hands were still grasping the Dragon's own, as if I had any chance of prying them away from my neck.

But the Night Fury bends down, and...sniffs my wrist, looking like he was about to paw at my arm wrappings.

Then I get it.

No, no, no, no, no!

My eyes widen with realization, and I start to panic.

"Let me go!" I scream, struggling under his grip.

The Dragon seems startled, and it loosens its grasp around my neck, but I still can't get away.

"Please!" I plead. He...knows. Isn't that enough?

Somehow, my good hand smacks the Dragon in the face, and he bends low and growls in my face with the crazed and wild eyes of a dangerous and wounded animal.

Okay, this is more like the Night Fury one would expect.

Then, the weirdest thing happens.

I shove him in the chest- hard- and a bright flash occurs, blinding me for a split second.

The Dragon cries out, and the weight pinning me down is no more.

The Night Fury roars, pitching itself into the air. His flight is a little wobbly but I don't pay too much attention to it. I'm too busy hyperventilating and freaking out.

That light. Please don't tell me I had just...

No. It couldn't be. I didn't even have my first set of scales fully developed yet. There was just no way I could have done that.

It was just luck, or the Gods finally decided that some good thing should happen to me. Yes, I'll thank the Gods. I can't...do _that _yet. Definitely not.

I moan as I pick myself up off the ground. My neck is sore and it must be a little red from being exposed to that heat. Oh well.

Gobber is gonna kill me, I conclude.

But the Night Fury was gone, for now at least, and here I was. Physically unscathed. I couldn't really count my crippled arm on the Night Fury because I had thrown it out ripping my axe from a tree. So, the worst it had done was make my neck red from the heat of his fire.

Still, I was alive, nonetheless. I lived.

But there is no way I am ever going to tell the tale. I'd rather set sail to Helheim's gate and back.

* * *

><p>"Astrid, lass! Where in Odin's beard have you been?" Gobber demanded the second I walked into the forge.<p>

"Sorry, I...went for a walk and lost track of time," I offer lamely.

"Lost track of time, eh? Then what did you do to your neck?"

"Uh..." How do I explain that one?

"'Uh' alright. You went out to fight Dragons again, didn't you?"

"Guilty," I say, lowering my head, hoping that if I don't look at him he won't be able to read me like a book.

"Astrid, you know your arm needs rest. Get up to bed and go study or something."

"Okay," I nod, but stop at the foot of the stairs.

"Hey, Gobber?" I ask.

"What is it?"

"You don't...happen to have a copy of the Dragon Manual at hand, do you?" I ask hopefully.

He thinks. "Hmm...as a matter of fact, I think I do. Why though? I thought you read it three years ago?"

"Well, three years ago is a long time, I forget things."

Gobber gives me a look. He knows that I never forget things. I was too perfect. But, nonetheless, he must have figured that it was for something of absolute importance, so he took me to the back room and dug up his old copy.

"Here ya go. Don't stay up too late," he advises, handing me the worn leather book, chalk full of notes and pages sticking out every which way.

"You got it," I call over my shoulder, already leaping up the stairs.

When I get to my room, I flop down on my bed and open the pages, delaying a moment so I can just inhale the scent of the book.

Another secret of mine is that I love books. Not quite like Fishlegs, but close enough. But, books were for the weak, the ones who couldn't fight. So therefore, I couldn't openly show my fondness for books. But I still loved the way they smelled, the way the words took you to another time and place, and how I could escape from my cruel reality just by stepping into a new one, if only for an hour or so.

"Alright, Strike Class, Fear Class, Mystery Class," I murmur to myself as I flip it open. I remember most of it, but I don't particularly remember the Night Fury, which is why I wanted the book in the first place.

"Thunderdrum," I announce quietly, taking note of its placement in 'Tidal Class.' I quickly skim over the side notes, remembering the very pronounced, 'extremely dangerous, kill on sight.' The Thunderdrum that was drawn in the book was rather scrawny, but buff compared to the Night Fury. Its wings were attached to its arms, like the Nadder, but they were slightly smaller and spotted. Another picture showed a Viking Turning into one, with the wings spreading out, the thin, whip-like tail growing in size, and very angry but detailed eyes.

The last picture showed a fully Turned Thunderdrum blasting pure sound waves out of its hands. That's right. Unlike most Dragons, Thunderdrums couldn't produce fire. Instead, they blasted sound waves. That could apparently kill a man in close range.

"Timberjack," I flip to the next page.

More drawings showing a Timberjack Turning. It, too, has its wings sprouting from its arms, but they are so large that almost look too big. They have curled horns coming out from their heads, like how the Night Fury had its ear flaps. The Timberjack could cut trees with its razor sharp wings, but it didn't look all that happy, if you asked me.

Next up was the Scauldron. One of our Vikings had Turned at sea, and into a Scauldron. We lost a lot that day. The newly Turned Dragon had sprayed boiling water at its former tribemates, not even blinking as it disappeared into the sea forever with seemingly practiced ease.

Changewings, classified in the Mystery Class, was another Dragon that we had never encountered before. They weren't as rare as the Night Fury, but they were still nearly as much of a mystery. We knew they spat acid and could blend into their surroundings, but that was about it.

I got impatient and started to flip through the pages, barely pausing to read the titles as they flickered by.

Something caught my eye as I neared the end of the book.

It was a blank page. Well, nearly blank, there were a few words. And they just happened to be what I was searching for.

"Night Fury," I read. "Speed: unknown. Size: unknown. The unholy offspring of lightning and death itself. Never engage this Dragon. Your only chance, hide and pray it does not find you."

I furrow my brow. I had found what I was searching for, but it didn't give me what I wanted. It then hit me just how little we knew about the Night Fury.

I don't know. But something happened that forbid me from killing it. It was like I literally _couldn't kill it._

Would I regret it later? Probably. But for now, all I had to go on was that the Night Fury was still out there. Maybe I could find it. And do what I have no idea, but Vikings aren't exactly known for their strategical thinking. Besides, I'm more of a traditional take-it-down-with-an-axe-then-lop-its-head-off kind of girl anyways. But I knew, at the very least, that I had to do _something._

I thumbed my scales through my arm wrappings, biting my lower lip.

If I didn't, I risked what little future I had left.

* * *

><p><strong>Wow, thank you guys for all the positive feedback! It makes me really happy! And I know that this is a totally random day for me to update, but I won't be able to update this Thursday or this weekend so here I am! I'll definitely have another chapter up on the Thursday after this one.<br>**

**And I can't believe it, 25 followers for one chapter?! Wow. This did better than I would have thought. Thanks again and please review! They make me happy:)  
><strong>

**Until next time, I hope you're enjoying my story as much as I am!**


	3. How To Survive A Dragon Maze

Dear Odin if I don't find this Dragon soon I am going to kill myself. What am I doing? I hate Dragons!

And yet, here I am, looking for the most deadly one in the middle of the woods, the very same one I couldn't kill, who also knows my secret...

I really need to think of better tactics.

"Useless half-reptile," I mutter, kicking a stone with my foot and swiping at nothing in particular with my axe. It had probably flown away, why was I even out here?

I grumble some more, feeling particularly sorry for myself as I search for things that I have a feeling I won't find.

Then, I notice a drop right behind a boulder.

"Hmm..." I twist my mouth in a quizzical way.

I follow it down, and it leads me to a cove that I didn't even know existed.

It's peaceful. There's plenty of places to hide, with a big lake in the center, a few trees dotting the edges. It's very nice, actually, but it's not what I'm looking for.

"Well this was stupid," I complain.

Well, it took about two seconds for the gods to prove me wrong.

Something very dark shot out of the corner of my eye, making me flinch back.

What would you guess, it was the Night Fury. He was beating his wings as hard as he could, which was a little strange. His eyes held an interesting glow, a certain dead-set determination that even the best Vikings strive for. He didn't seem to know how to use his hands, though, as he kept grasping for rocks but slipping.

He falls as I'm in the middle of thinking, slowing his descent down by gliding unstably on his jet black wings.

So this is the acclaimed Night Fury, real and in the flesh. And I'm here, just observing it, and it's not attacking me, it's in its natural habitat.

Somehow I thought it'd be more...terrifying, frightening, threatening, I don't know, _something _other than blindly hurling itself at a cliff.

"Why won't you just...fly away?" I wonder out loud, barely whispering.

His nose snarls and his teeth bare. He growls in frustration, something to remind me that he's definitely a Dragon, and shoots a plasma blast with a flick of his wrist in annoyance.

I don't know how, but that's when I see his tail.

Something even more confusing, I feel like I want to throw up. Even from this ledge, I can see the dried blood on the left side of his tail fin... or, where his left tail fin _used _ to be. Why does this bother me? The Night Fury's grounded, he's as good as dead and I won't have to kill him. I should be overjoyed, thrilled, ecstatic. Happy in some way, at the very least. But all I feel is sickened.

Sorry. I feel sorry for a Dragon.

I glance down at my arm wrappings, subconsciously tugging on them, willing them to be tighter. Is the Dragon I'm Bonding with showing up in more ways than I previously thought? No. It can't. Because I'm Astrid Hofferson and Astrid Hofferson is _not _ weak.

But Astrid Hofferson is supposed to hate Dragons, too.

I snarl to myself, louder than I anticipated. It gains me the attention of a certain grounded boy with wings and unnatural green slit eyes.

I widen my own crystal blue ones in shock, but only for a moment.

My eyes settle back into their usual stormy gray-blue glare when it wears off.

"What do you want?" I hiss at it. The Dragon crouches on its hands and cocks its head at me, daring to look, shall I say, curious.

It warbles, lifting a hand. His hand glows blue for a moment before something loud and _bright _comes right at me. I instinctively cover my head with my hands, but the plasma blast hits directly above me. Only a few pebbles come loose and fall into my plaited hair.

That's twice that it's shot at me, and missed. Just now, he could have easily aimed, fired, and hit dead on. But it didn't. It shot a deadly flame of plasma at me, and missed. Perhaps just to show that it could.

But why would it miss when it always hits its target?

The Night Fury continues to stare at me, and is now balanced on all fours with his crippled tail wrapped around his feet. I furrow my brow, trying to search for signs of attack, certainly not to avoid catching sight of that Thor-awful tail of his...

Its gaze unnerves me, so I get up and walk away.

Perhaps just to show that I can.

* * *

><p>Why did that Dragon have to be so confusing? Again, if I haven't mentioned this already, that was the second time the Dragon-who-didn't-miss missed.<p>

Why was this eating me up? It literally made no sense. I shouldn't care about any Dragon, period. Let alone a Night Fury. Oh my gods this is way to confusing. Vikings are simple people. We fight, we eat, we train, and we fight some more. Our minds aren't made for these types of things!

_No, but maybe Dragons are..._

I suck in a breath at the thought. I am not a Dragon.

Strategical thinking is something that's always been something that's come easy to me. I'm actually pretty scrawny, so strategy is all I have. I try to gain weight like all the other Vikings, or, at least to the point where I can't touch my fingertips when I wrap my hands around my waist, but to no avail. I have muscles, obviously with all the training courses I take, but sometimes it's just not enough. Of course, Dragons were incredibly strong. Take that Night Fury, for example.

But I am not a Dragon.

I quickly glimpse at my arm wrappings. My wrists are dying in the heat of the forge as I sit by the coals, waiting for Gobber to come back.

I am not a Dragon.

I sigh and look back at the coals. When I was little, I used to find figures in the coals. I used to be able to see great Vikings going to war, flickering away before they ever reached, or warriors battling fearsome creatures. Now all I could make out were Dragons.

I am not a Dragon.

_I'm not one of them,_ I tell myself, but I'm not even one hundred percent convinced that I'm not just telling myself that to ease my worries. All because I couldn't get the end of that thought out of my head, the one the beast stirring inside of me whispered.

I'm not one of them.

_Yet._

* * *

><p>"Alright, everyone, Gronkle training today!" Gobber yells, light and chipper for having just announced that we were going to be training for death.<p>

Tuffnut, Ruffnut, Snotlout, and Fishlegs all groan. Eret's the only one who doesn't complain.

I'm not allowed to practice, 'because crippled Vikings make an easy target,' so Gobber says.

"Gronkles. Why Gronkles?" Fishlegs mutters from down in the ring.

I want to tell him that they are slow and untactful, relying on strength and fire power instead of brain and tactic, but for one, that might make it seem like I was actually showing interest in the other teens and not just watching because I wasn't allowed to practice and two, I'm sure he already knew.

"Alright, remember, today we are working on solo fighting. It's every Viking for himself."

The arena was set in a maze-like structure. I'm pretty sure he did this as well on the second day of training. That had been fun (not). I had nearly been trampled by a Deadly Nadder. Not one of my most happy experiences, especially when I was afra- er, hated those ones.

I grip my axe hard, waiting for Gobber to unleash the beast on the waiting kids. I want to argue that I'm good enough to be down there training as well, but as much as I hate (and I mean absolutely _hate_) to admit it, my broken arm begs to differ. So I'm stuck standing outside the ring, observing. Gobber smiles, and I wait for him to pull the lever on the Gronkle's cage. But, instead, he wanders nonchalantly over to the edge of the arena, shutting the gate behind him and coming to stop right beside me.

"Uh, Gobber?" Snotlout calls warily.

"Now, surprise! All of the Dragons are coming out today! Remember; every man for himself. Alright, have at it!"

All of a sudden, Gobber pushes down a lever that I'm sure none of us have ever noticed before now and every single Dragon we keep around for training is suddenly free from their cages.

"Are you crazy?" Fishlegs demands, running around like a chicken with its head cut off as a Hideous Zippleback zeros in on him with a smoke breath.

Now, there's this weird thing about Zipplebacks. They aren't like any other Dragon known to Viking.

Ancestral Zipplebacks were one Dragon with two heads, one to breathe toxic gas and the other to ignite it. Nowadays, to be claimed by a Zippleback is rare. Because an Ancestral Zippleback will Bond with two people. The two have to work together to cause chaos. Zipplebacks will often be mates. They can leave one another, but if they can't find another "head" then they're just half of a Zippleback, half of a Dragon. I remember this one Zippleback Stoick had killed long ago when I was seven. I had seen it numerous times. It was wild borne, meaning that it didn't come from a Viking. Like the Night Fury. I'm sure we all would remember if something like _that _turned in the middle of the village. But anyways, the Zippleback had been a gas breather. Its humanity was female. She had long, deadly claws and her wings were slightly torn. But she had been seen with several different gas igniters. That was how we learned that Zipplebacks could move between partners. The Dragon was a common enough species that there were a variety of unchosen partners or mates so Zipplebacks were rarely grounded.

Oh, did I mention? Half a Zippleback, half a Dragon. Zipplebacks had to be a complete Dragon to fly, meaning that they had to have one gas breather and one gas igniter for them to fly. As Gobber always says, a downed Dragon is a dead Dragon.

Hmm...I wonder...

I am distracted when one of the Zipplebacks notices me, just standing there outside the ring. It growls at me.

It turns to the second "head" and through a series of clicks and growls, the second head turns away from Fishlegs who was previously attacking it with a hammer, and they both lock their eyes on me.

"Come on," I jeer from above. "Didn't get enough last time?"

One of the heads has a black eye, and it hisses in memory. To actually hurt a Dragon is not an easy feat. I'm sure it's easy to kill a Dragon (because I wouldn't know...) but to hurt them not kill them? That's a whole different feat. For one, they're a lot tougher than the average Viking, and their skin might as well be granite. It took a lot of force to give that stupid Dragon a mark let alone a black eye.

The gas breather shoots out a stream of, well, _gas, _and the gas igniter does its job. I tumble out of the way, cursing the Dragon(s) and raising my axe but by the time the remains disperse they're gone.

"I hate Zipplebacks," I mutter to myself beneath my breath. Not quite as some species of Dragons, but they're definitely not my favorite. Somehow, I feel like the Zipplebacks were giving me the middle finger.

They probably were. Or, something akin to it in Dragon.

I lean against the bars with my axe pointed downwards, watching everyone. I could probably beat everyone in the arena except maybe Eret. But Eret didn't seem like he was too interested in fighting Dragons anyways, so that left a clear open road for me.

Why he didn't want to was beyond me, but hey, to each his own, right?

Plus, Dragon training gave me unlimited access to the Dragon Manual, and I could study the one Gobber gave me every night.

Snotlout acts all brave to the Gronkle, but the she-Dragon inhumanly growls and blasts a ball of lava from her hands, scaring him off in less than a second.

I sigh. If only he could run that fast _towards _a Dragon.

The Gronkle's fire seemed a bit more forced and practiced, where the Night Fury's had been effortless and easy.

For some reason, I keep thinking of that Night Fury a lot, too.

Like, _a lot, _a lot.

But, like all the other times, I shove the thoughts away and tuck them in the back of my mind, the best I can do. My arms itch almost painfully but I ignore that too.

How come some Dragons didn't kill? The Night Fury didn't-

Oh, that lasted about three seconds, a new record!

Then, a deathly Dragon steps into view, shaking out their scales and fluttering their wings.

I freeze on the spot.

It's a Deadly Nadder.

_Show no fear, this Dragon will not best you._

I narrow my eyes, but I'm worried that the fear hasn't quite left yet. When I'm attacking one of them, sure, easy. But it's the in-between part that has me cowering. I can't help but see my parents' death in this purple creature before me. Okay, well, the Nadder isn't _really _purple, but his scales and spine tips are. If Vikings could think Dragons as beautiful, I'm sure Nadders would be the closest definition, but we are Vikings. We only find swords, knives, axes and clubs beautiful.

And war. Lots and lots of war.

I sigh again, glaring at the Nadder with all the hate I could muster. Which, being a Viking, was a whole awful lot.

Ruff and Tuff come running around the corner. I'm almost certain that a part of Tuffnut's hair was on fire but from this vantage point I couldn't be sure.

The Nadder growls and steps towards them, raising his hands. If he weren't a Dragon, it would have looked like he was surrendering. But he was, and this Dragon was far from surrendering.

"Look out!" I call, against my will. But to my dismay, the twins seem in shock, and they don't move.

I mentally groan and look glance at Gobber. He's distracted with watching Eret save Snotlout- yet again.

Always up to me.

The Nadder's hands begin to glow an unhealthy red, and just as he's about to summon a blast of pure magnesium- the hottest fire known in the Dragon world, mind you- I slip between the rails and gracefully dive down eleven feet with practiced ease.

I use my axe to knock the Nadder's hands away, pointing them at the ceiling. The fire shoots out and sends sparks raining down but it doesn't even make a mark on the chainmail that keeps the Dragons from flying away.

The Nadder seems to scream. Not in pain, more in fury. And I suddenly realize I'm less than five feet away from my most hated enemy.

I growl right back at it.

_Show no fear, this Dragon will not best you._

With a small grunt I swing my axe (the flat part, of course) to the Nadder's face, whacking him square in the cheek.

He gives a small shriek once more. He looks pained, but he's not even bleeding.

"Stupid Dragon," I shout, filled with anger.

The Nadder then perks up.

The other teens have now come to see the show.

"There are other Dragons in this arena, muttonheads!" I remind them before darting away, leading the Nadder away from them. The Nadder won't be the biggest problem, all I have to do is outsmart it (which this is probably the hardest Dragon to outsmart, but I'm still smarter because I'm _Astrid_) and watch the spine shots. The Monstrous Nightmare is quick, but it's not very good at strategy. All the Gronkle's good at doing is bowling things over. I hate to admit it, but I think the Zippleback with be the biggest issue. Two "heads" are more dangerous than one.

I push ahead, thanking the gods that Gothi gave me a splint and not a whole arm wrap (don't need to explain that one, hopefully) so I am still maneuverable. I dart past the maze, using the only advantage I have; I know how to think like a human.

The Nadder is quick and light on their feet, but even these Dragons have difficulty with their human aspects. Sometimes they don't understand emotion other than hatred or they'll stumble clumsily on their two feet, and I don't even think the former Vikings who have Bonded remember how to use their hands.

And so, of course, the Nadder rams into the side of one of the maze walls, sending the whole thing down like dominoes.

I curse beneath my breath but keep on running because, to be quite honest, it's the only thing I _can _do. Somehow, I end up vaulting onto the tops of the maze with the Nadder in what little air it can fly in behind me. Now the Nadder is at full advantage; it's in the sky, and I am on a falling ground.

I moan unhappily, watching for the other teens.

I see the other teens madly running around, avoiding those unnatural fangs and claws, and the wings that fan out behind them.

Eret's just barely managing the two Zipplebacks, but they keep striking relentlessly, showing how closely they are related to a viper.

I just need some way to get them all together, maybe we could focus them on each other and not their next meal. All we needed to do was get them back in their cages.

Would this work? Well, let's find out.

"Fishlegs!" I call, still running on the quickly toppling maze walls.

Fishlegs looks up from the hammer he's grasping for dear life, momentarily distracted.

I dive once again, this time headfirst, and come up with a clean summersault, ending up right next to him.

"The Gronkle," I say. "Keep it occupied, get a shield and make some noise."

He nods a little shakily, but follows my orders nonetheless.

"Ruff, Tuff!" I shout. The look up from ripping _each other's _throats out, and look at me.

"Help Eret out," I tell them.

"But it's every man for himself-"

"I don't care! Every man for himself is not going to work for all these Dragons. Just work together and we can get them back in their cages!"

"Whatever," they each murmur, but they don't hesitate to run in, throwing daggers at the two Zipplebacks who look mildly intimidated by the new couple.

"Snotlout!" I call out next.

"The Monstrous Nightmare, make a _lot_ of noise and shouts, back it off, pretend to be the bigger Dra- er, Viking. Just make it confused!"

"On it," he agrees, calling out curses that I had never even heard before. To my surprise, (I mean, what? I totally knew that would work!) the Nightmare growls and takes a forced step back.

"Alright, Nadder, just you...and..."

Why do I get the sneaky suspicion that it's right behind me?

I slowly turn around.

"...you."

I snorts through its nose, cackling. The darn Dragon seems like it's laughing.

"I don't have time fore this!" I say, swinging my axe wildly but with dead precision. My axe hits it in the face again and it cries out, lifting off to fly to the chainmail ceiling.

"Alright, now that that's taken care off," I dust my hands off and run back through the rubble and broken maze walls to find the others. Now that they actually were told to do something (aside from Gobber's firm belief of learning on the job), they were actually holding their own fairly decently.

"Corner them!" I order, swinging my axe at the Zippleback who just leaped at me.

I hiss along with it, but in pain. Being hyped up on adrenaline has done me good so far, but now that I was slowly backing up the Dragons, it was fading quickly and I could feel the pain of using a broken limb.

In all fairness, I was saving my fellow classmates, does that count in anyone else's book but mine? No? Okay.

One at a time, we zeroed in on the Dragons, forcing them in their cage with all of our fury combined.

In no time at all, all that's left is the Nadder still clinking its wings against the metal every time it beats its purple wings glittering in the sunlight.

I step on the handle of a hammer sticking out of the debris and aim. I throw it, and of course it hits the Nadder dead in the chest.

I would feel sorry for its fall but I had heard a Night Fury's scream as it fell from way, way, _way _higher than fifteen twenty or so feet, with its wings and body bound so its fall was only sped up. At least the Nadder could use his wings to slow the fall.

As soon as it's downed I run towards it, placing the end of my axe against its throat.

The Nadder looks up at me, and all the hatred in my eyes vanishes.

It no longer looks terrifying. It only looks terrified.

I sigh and move my axe away from the bewildered Dragon.

"Nice job, guy, but next time-"

"Astrid look out!" Eret cries, and quick as a thought he tackles me down to the ground.

Just in time, too. The Nadder's fire shot simmers down to a black burn mark in the spot I had just been.

Gobber bursts into the arena, looking outraged.

"I'll take it from here," he growled, punching the Dragon in the face with his no-really hand that's really a makeshift hammer.

That had to hurt. Gobber dragged the dazed Nadder back to its cage and locked it up tight.

"I-I'm sorry, Gobber," I stammer, hastily picking myself up. I did give Eret a hand. He did save my life, after all. Twice (I think through gritted teeth).

"Well done, Astrid," he says, completely surprising me. "But next time I say stay out of the ring, _stay out of the ring._"

"Sorry, Gobber. I know that tis was supposed to be a solo training thing-"

"What? Oh no, that was just to get you all to see that working alone does not work. Every man for himself is not something you all need to want, you hear?" Gobber says, waddling through us and waggling his finger (on his real hand).

"It's why Berk thrives; because we work together. Teamwork is the only way. Otherwise we run around like chickens with our heads cut off."

I smirk to myself, wondering where in the world he could have gotten _that _idea...

"But also, another lesson. Never, _ever _turn your back on a Dragon. They cannot be trusted. And they always..." he looks right into my eyes. I quickly look down. "_Always_...go for the kill."

* * *

><p><strong>Crud it's not Thrusday. I am so sorry for skipping yesterday, I have literally been going through my day today thinking that it was Thursday. Sorry about that. I had every intention in mind to update Thursday, and I thought...yeah...<strong>

**So anyways, you're all probably wondering when in the world is Astrid gonna meet officially meet Hiccup, and I promise you it will happen next. And I'm sure that 99.99% of you can predict the first sentence of the next chapter ;) I just hate those stories where it's a retell (of the sorts) of the movie and they rush everything, so I'm trying to take the pace a little slower. I understand if it's agonizingly painful but that's just the way it goes. I like details, okay? Don't judge me!**

**Thank you all again for coming back to read more and see you next Thursday (the real next Thursday, haha...) or sooner!**


	4. How To Teach A Dragon Personal Space

"...So why didn't you?" I ask out loud, lifting up the heavy part of the discarded bola I had somehow managed to re-find.

I once again twist my mouth, as if searching for an answer.

I wonder if the Dragon is still there.

_This is a bad idea, _my conscious warns me, but, as always, I don't really listen.

_Your funeral._

_I'm already dying._

I freeze when I think that. Bonding with a Dragon is sort of like dying, I guess. We wouldn't really know, we never had the mind to study them any further than the Dragon Manual and Dragons couldn't exactly speak.

But I wasn't going to Turn. Maybe I was Bonding, but I am not going to turn. I've held it back this much I can hold it back all the way.

But what I didn't remind myself of was that each day I was growing more and more wary of what I might and could do.

The cove is peaceful once again. It'd be a nice place to rest. You know, if there wasn't a Dragon laying in wait for you.

I slowly creep down to the boulders where I peer down into the cove. I don't see the Night Fury, which is a little strange.

Spoke too soon.

All of a sudden, a large black figure burst out of the water, giving me a heart attack.

It's one thing to have a monster burst out of the water. It's another thing for a _real _monster to _literally _burst out of the water.

I can tell you that it wasn't the best experience of my entire life.

I sit still on the boulder, waiting to see what he does.

Once again, I get a pretty decent image of the Night Fury, and my reaction confuses me even more.

I guess from swimming in the small lake, all the dirt washed off, so he's clean now, aside from the blood still caked on the side of his face. His black clothing is completely tattered, and I think he must have ripped what little remains of his shirt that had been left off sometime. Now that I was actually looking at him, he wasn't so much as scrawny as just lean. I can see slightly toned muscles from here, that I assume would be more defined if he hadn't been starving for the past few days.

And that made me feel bad.

But why in the world would I feel bad?

I think he was fishing, but either way, he comes up without a fish. He growls and throws another plasma blast in frustration, but he looks weak, like the effort of attempting to get food had strained him.

His hair is long and slightly shaggy, dripping in his face from the swim.

He looks quite pitiful, and once again I can't help but feel sorry for this creature.

He's beginning to- no, he _is- _starving.

He could use some food. He needs food. He will die if I don't help this Dragon.

I sigh, picking myself up from my crouched position, not quite yet believing what I'm about to do.

* * *

><p>Maybe around an hour later, I manage to steal a fish, a shield, and walk through town with my axe strapped to my back and all of these goods with me, and I don't get questioned.<p>

The day is hot, which is unusual for Berk. Normally it's either storm clouds threatening to rain or storm clouds dumping everything they've got. I think you get the picture.

I scout a way to get down into the cove without having to jump down from that ledge (which I could have done! I'd just...you know, rather not...) and peer out into the cove.

The Dragon isn't in sight. Did he fly away?

_Of course he didn't, stupid, _I remind myself. _You tore his tailfin off. He'll probably never fly again. A downed Dragon is a dead Dragon._

I sigh once more and throw the slippery (and disgusting) Icelandic cod out into the open. Nothing happens.

Maybe he's hiding.

I turn the shield sideways and slip between the two boulders.

I pick up the fish again and slowly turn around as I walk, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Of course with my luck, a small grating sound comes from behind me. I turn and am face to face with the Night Fury.

Okay, so not really face to face, more like face to crouching-on-a-really-high-boulder, but same thing,, right?

I freeze up just slightly, the Viking in me failing miserably.

_So this is what the fearless Astrid Hofferson does when she faces the ferocious Night Fury?_

_I'm not here to kill it. I'm here to feed it. Odin's beard I must be going mad. But I've survived this beast's encounter. Twice._

That I'm still alive fills me with a miniscule amount of self courage, and it's just enough for me to awkwardly thrust the fish out towards it and raise my shield.

"O-okay," I say shakily. "Here's how it's gonna go. I'm gonna give you this fish," I raise it slightly just so maybe, if the gods are feeling particularly sorry for me today, the Dragon would understand that this was its meal, not me, "and you're not gonna kill me."

Looking at this, it must seem silly. I mean, the boy has to weigh like, ninety pounds (okay, _not_ including the wings, tail, and everything else) and all he has going on are the creepy Dragon body parts. But I know better. Dragons are dangerous and you should never trust them.

The Dragon snorts, and I can only hope it's in agreement.

He slowly climbs down from the rock, tilting his head at me, as if scoping the situation out, as if _I'm _the more dangerous one.

I take a deep breath and keep holding the fish out.

I cringe when he slowly approaches. The Night Fury leans down, somehow making it seem elegant and graceful in a way that I could never achieve, and opens his mouth, wide. Is he going to...grab the fish with his mouth? If it were in any other situation, I would have laughed. I guess when Dragons forget everything, they really _forget everything_, including how to use opposable thumbs.

"Easy," I warn as he gets uncomfortably close.

He stops approaching and growls, a deep rumble that sounds way more natural than it should.

"What?" I demand, but not with the usual sternness everyone knows to expect.

He snarls, bringing his lips back in a threatening sneer. He's staring at...

"Oh, no," I argue. "I get to keep _that_."

He's staring at my axe. No doubt, he thinks I will attack him. Heck, I probably would, too, if I were in his boots- er, feet, or, claws, or, I don't know, this is taking way too much thought process!

"I won't hurt you, I promise," I tell him firmly.

He doesn't appear convinced.

"Look," I say, getting frustrated. "Do you want the fish or not? If I get rid of my axe, here, then I will be completely defenseless. You're a Dragon, even though you're not armed you could still kill me. So it's kind of fair, if you ask me."

Of course he didn't but I don't keep that in mind. But the stupid Dragon refuses to step down.

I groan.

"Fine, how about this?" I ask. "I'll get rid of my shield. Shields are more important to us Vikings, so you're hurt and weak, I don't have a shield _and _I'm crippled, too, so I need some means of defense if you decide to eat me. Sound fair?"

He makes a sound that I've never heard from a Dragon before. It's sort of like a growl, but it's not. It sounds like something a Viking would say. Like they're agreeing to something they really don't to. Either way, I hope the Dragon has come to some sort of consensus.

I drop the shield with a pronounced thud. He growls again and shakes his head, as if to say, _get rid of it._

I roll my eyes and bring my splinted hand to rest on my hip in annoyance, but nonetheless I shove the shield with my foot as far as I can. It slides really far. I wouldn't even have time to run and grab it if the Night Fury were on the other side of the cove.

I turn back to him and raise my eyebrows, shifting my weight to one foot to look even more ticked off.

_'Happy?' _I mentally ask, as I'm starting to feel silly talking to a beast that I don't even know if it can understand me or not.

He snorts.

_'Not really, but I'm hungry and you have fish,' _I imagine him saying back.

He proceeds to approach now, still leaning down to retrieve the meal with his mouth.

By some miracle, or some twisted irony, I just happen to notice his teeth.

They're completely normal.

Dragons have fangs as well. They don't protrude out from their mouths like the Ancestral Dragons, but how else could they rip into raw meat? The Night Fury's teeth are completely flat, well, not completely, they're just normal. They look just like any Viking's teeth.

"Huh," I say out loud. "Toothless. I could have sworn you had Dragon-"

He cuts my spoken thought by opening his jaw really, _really wide, _and then the Dragon teeth that were missing appear, chomping down on the fish and bringing it to the ground so he could gobble it down greedily. I flinch and instinctively yank my arms back.

"...teeth," I finish, still in a defensive position.

My hand starts to sting a little and I realize that in his fit of being faced with food in the start of starvation, one of his fangs had nicked my hand.

I wipe the small trickle of blood off on my skirt and look back at the Dragon.

He had eaten the whole fish, picked clean the bones and had probably eaten some small ones as well.

Talk about ravenous.

He notices me staring at him and stands once again, making a purring sound in his throat that I can't quite decipher as 'content' or 'threatening.'

I back up, momentarily (and idiotically) forgetting about my axe.

"Uh, no, no, I don't have any more," I say quickly. I manage to trip stumbling backwards and the Dragon corners me against a rock.

I lean as far as I can into the rock, starting to panic just a tiny bit.

"Um, I... I promised I wouldn't hurt you, please don't turn against me. I did get you that fish. If you kill me, I can't bring you any more," I try to reason with it.

He flicks his head. If I didn't know any better I could have sworn it was in amusement, but I do and I know he's probably not amused.

Well, I haven't gotten killed yet, that's a plus.

I still avoid glancing at his tail.

Even though the swim for fish in the lake washed the dirt off of him, it didn't do too much for the blood.

I grimace in sympathy.

Even though the Dragon has cornered me, now I feel like it's the one who feels in danger.

"I'm...sorry about that," I choke out. I don't apologize to anyone, let alone a Dragon. But I feel like in this case, he kind of deserves one.

_Kind of deserves one? You shredded half of his tail!_

_Okay, maybe really deserves one._

It should unnerve me that I'm feeling sorry for this Dragon, but I've already come to terms with it. That's what scares me more than anything.

The Night Fury is really close now.

And when I realize just how close, a new feeling arises in me, other than panic or sympathy.

I don't really recognize it, it's not something I've ever felt before.

_You stupid girl. You're embarrassed,_ my brain supplies me.

Holy mother of Thor, am I _embarrassed _because the stupid Dragon doesn't have a shirt?

I really am losing it.

No. I'm not embarrassed. Astrid Hofferson does not get _embarrassed. _I'm just a little uncomfortable, that's all.

I try to tell that to the heat quickly rising in my face but to no avail.

Whatever. Again, uncomfortable, because I do not get _embarrassed _and I certainly don't _blush._

However, I do make a side note to bring the poor boy some clothes the next time.

Only because his old black clothing had gotten torn to shreds and it couldn't be easy in this Berkian weather. Of course, he could summon fire from his hands... But that's irrelevant, right?

The Night Fury crouches down in front of me, and takes a sniff of the air.

Why would...?

His eyes dilate into slits, and that can't be a good sign.

He stares at me, and I'm captured in the Night Fury's gaze.

His eyes are an unusual emerald green, a very vibrant and lively shade of emerald green. They're flecked with gold and his pupils are slits, just like any Dragon's. But just the fact that they aren't yellow, they're green, somehow eases my mind in some way unfathomable to myself.

For the first time, I wonder about what I will look like if I Turn. Would my eyes be terrifying and deadly, yet mesmerizing and maybe- just maybe- beautiful like the Night Fury's? Or would mine be a cold, expressionless, and ugly yellow like all the other Dragons' eyes I have seen?

I snap out of it when the Night Fury lowers his head to sniff the inside of my wrist, the one that's not in the splint.

"Hey, um, Night Fury? I kinda need that, I mean, I only have one left," I don't really think that will do anything.

But then he moves to paw at it.

He doesn't get far before I remember my axe.

I tear my hand away and give a ferocious growl myself, reaching behind me with my good hand to grab it (which is not an easy feat considering my right-handed self just had to go and get her right hand broken).

"I promised I wouldn't hurt you but if you hurt me then I won't hesitate," I warn in a low voice. I put every single ounce of the ferocious shield maiden I am into that voice, but somehow I know that that's not what scared the creature off. It must have been something in my eyes. He must have seen that whatever was on my arms was not something he should see and that I would die to protect it.

He must have either respected that or known not to mess with an angry and determined female, Dragon or Viking. It must have been the latter, because, again, Dragons can't really think like we can.

He growls softly and takes off into the air. It would have been a lot more intimidating if he hadn't crash-landed on the other side of the lake, grumbling as he picked himself up.

The Night Fury is still grumbling but he must have gotten more energy from eating a little something as he easily blasts the ground in a small circle before curling up on the steaming ground, aiming to take a nap.

I stare at him in part confusion, part wonder.

Okay, I'll have to admit, he did look a little cute when he curled up on the ground like that.

He had wrapped his tail around himself and was snuggling it like it was a Viking blanket.

I hold back laughter, but I guess I failed, as he shoots his head up and glares at me.

_'How dare you interrupt me, I was trying to nap you stupid Viking.'_

_'Oh, I'm sorry. Please continue on with your cat nap.'_

_'No point now. You ruined it.'_

Apparently, my imaginary conversation was pretty accurate, as the Night Fury gets up, grumbling pointless nothings and sending me glares every few steps. I bite a chuckle.

I sit around the cove for a while, just enthralling in the fact that I was actually in a confined area with a Night Fury and I was still alive.

It's starting to get dark and I really need to get back soon, but the funny thing is I don't want to. I actually like it here, even though we both keep our distance.

I sigh and walk over to a nearby tree. Just as I'm about to break off the sturdiest twig, I sense a presence breathing down my back. Oh, wait, no. More like I _feel _a presence breathing down my back.

I jump away a little.

Darn that Night Fury he's taller than me, I realize for the first time. I have to look up.

He isn't threatening me. He's only watching me. It seems almost like he's observing me.

Well that pesky Dragon needs to learn some personal space.

_'Watch the personal bubble!' _I glare at him in my mind, thinking what I would say out loud as I had come to do. And in turn I would imagine what the Dragon would say if he could talk.

_'What is this personal space you speak of?' _he would ask.

_'Oh forget it, you useless Dragon.'_

_'Whatever. Stupid Viking.'_

_'I heard that.'_

_'Good, you were supposed to.'_

I get out of hand and snort out loud, and the Dragon looks at me in confusion.

"Sorry," I say aloud, reddening (for the second time that day!) and quickly snap off the twig, hurriedly rushing back to the rock I had been resting on.

I keep my head low, making pointless scratches in the dirt. I couldn't draw very well anyways and I had no hope with my left hand, so all I could do was scratches.

The Dragon follows, once again breathing down my neck (and making me very uncomfortable, but I keep making scratches just to show that he doesn't scare me). In the corner of my eye, I see him follow the movement of the twig with his head, not with his eyes. Something an animal would do in wonder or fascination.

He then moves to stare at my hand, firmly clasped around the twig. And it's only going white because I'm concentrating, certainly not because of the Night Fury behind me.

He blows out through his nose rather loudly and trots off. He's probably going to go hang upside down and nap like he did earlier.

Night Furies napped a whole awful lot for being the most feared Dragon out there.

But, to my surprise, he comes back with a twig of his own.

He holds it like it's a snake and will bite him, or maybe like a toddler who doesn't know how to hold something would. Which I suppose, in a way, he is. He doesn't know how to climb, otherwise he'd be able to get out of this cove.

But then how did he get in that tree? Then again, he could still fly then, and he can use his hands for clawing into things for grip.

But then he sticks the end in the ground like I did and moves it back and forth.

I watch in amazement as two curved lines suddenly get a flat nose, two oval eyes, and a shape.

Soon enough, I'm staring at a very good drawing of an Ancestral Night Fury.

Or, what I assume is one. The Dragon has the same shape of eyes (well, the best I could figure out from a scratch picture in the dirt) and he has the same ear flaps.

The Night Fury nods in satisfaction and turns to me, grinning. He looks very proud of himself.

_'Look what I did!'_

I smile in amazement and stand.

We stare at each other for just a moment.

I can't describe that one moment. It's like something just clicked. We were no longer the deadly Dragon and the vicious Viking. We were just a Dragon and a human. And in that one moment, there was nothing wrong with that.

It gave me a feeling I could remember but couldn't name. I know that I had felt it at some point, a long time ago, perhaps, but I couldn't put a name to it. It's on the tip of my tongue and I'm sure I'll drive myself crazy trying to think o fit, but I just can't remember it.

Then the Dragon winces and I get a clear image of just how much blood is caked on the side of his face.

No matter how many times he dunks himself in a lake that blood isn't going to come off unless somebody helps him.

And of course there is no one around but me.

_'Hold on a minute,'_ I tell him in my mind.

If he doesn't have his shirt anymore, then that means the scraps of whatever kind of fabric it was must still be here somewhere, and if they were, then I could...aha!

I find the scraps by the shore of the lake. I take the biggest one and soak it with water, bringing it back to the Night Fury while it's still dripping.

He looks at me warily, shifting from foot to foot.

I know he's a Dragon, but that has to be cold on his bare feet. I dismiss the thought and go back to wondering how in Thor's name am I going to get close enough to wash the blood off.

"Hey, there, toothless," I say calmly. He doesn't appear to appreciate my ironic nickname.

He snorts and backs away a little.

"Hey, you've got blood on your face. I can help you clean it off, okay? But you have to trust me."

The Night Fury stares at me, making me feel like I'm trying to communicate with a barrel of fish.

I sigh, pointing to the black cloth which is way softer than what I would imagine.

"I can use _this_ to get _this,_" I then gesture to the side of my face, "off of _you._"

He looks thoughtful.

_'How do I know I can trust you?'_

"Are you serious? I've been here all day and I haven't done one thing!"

He stares at me like I'm crazy. Which I probably am. Imagining a Dragon speaking to me just because I'm bored and stalling going back to the village.

He nods his head at my axe, which is still strapped to my back, and hisses.

I sigh.

"I can't get rid of it," I say firmly.

He lowers his head and glares at me.

"Look, if I...give you my axe, will you let me clean your face? It's the least I can do." I cannot believe I am actually offering to do this.

He thinks for a moment before looking at me again and nodding once.

I cautious step towards him, keeping an eye out for any tell tale signs of attack. I don't find any.

I get about three feet away before I slowly reach back and draw my axe out.

He flinches at the noise, but he doesn't shy away.

I reluctantly hold it out in my left hand.

He cocks his head at the axe, and starts to lean down.

I pull it back.

"Grab it with your _hands_," I demand.

_'My what?'_

"Your hands you useless Dragon," I say, pointedly flexing the finger on my left hand.

The Dragon stares at my fingers in total awe before attempting to mirror my movements.

It's really weird and actually quite funny to watch a Dragon try to use their hands. Especially if they'd never been taught before. This one is wild borne, so I don't expect him to know anything.

I set the hilt on the ground and use my splinted arm to perch it up.

Then, I flex my fingers again.

"Watch," I order.

I slowly reach out to the handle and firmly grasp it, not loosening once as I bring it up to hold it out to him.

"See?"

He sniffs it, but all the same, he reaches out for it.

When he grabs it, he holds it like at any moment it might attack him.

"But I want it back, that's my mother's," I tell him.

I don't expect him to care, let alone comply. But what he does takes me by surprise.

I would have thought he would have thrown it in the lake, somewhere in the depths where I could never retrieve it, or blasted it to shards with one hand tied behind his back. But instead, he gives me a look with his eyes that I could not have imagined him saying better.

_'Okay.'_

He turns and carefully sets it on the ground a few steps away.

I just stand there and gape at him, the cold cloth making my hand go numb.

He gestures wit his head. _'Get on with it already.'_

I shake my head, as if clearing the little memory of him giving me a fully one hundred percent human gaze from my mind.

"Sit down," I suggest.

To my surprise, he does. He settles on the ground and sits cross-legged, looking up at me.

_He's trusting me,_ I think.

I sit down in front of him. I'll have to lean forward but it's better than getting any closer.

He closes his eyes when the cloth touches him, but I can see him tense.

I don't say anything as I scrub at the dried blood.

Even dried, it's a bright, vibrant red. So alien to our kind. But it's still red, and that somehow makes it...more acceptable.

"Alright, done," I announce thankfully.

I shoot up and let the now-red cloth flutter to the ground. He stands up as well, slower this time.

_'Thank you, that was beginning to itch,'_ I imagine he'd say.

_"It's no big deal.'_

He turns his gaze down to my wrists, which I notice that I was playing with.

I feel heat rush to my face and I cling to my right wrist with my left hand, praying that he'll go away.

He doesn't.

He uses the new skills of 'grabbing' I had taught him, and cautiously reaches out.

I don't know why, but I let him take my one hand. The left one, of course. Somehow he knows that my right is crippled.

Ever so slowly, he unravels my arm wrappings. Fast learner.

I suck in a breath when my scales are revealed to the evening air.

He stares intently at them for a really long time. He only stares at them for, like, three seconds, but it feels like three years.

I draw them back, hastily covering them back up as quickly and skilled as I can.

_'You're Bonding.' _he would state plainly.

I redden in shame. I'm sure he doesn't understand why I am so upset by this, and how could he? He was already a Dragon, and to him that must be the best thing ever.

"I'll see you tomorrow...Toothless," I add, just because I know it irked him once before and I hate the silence and the seriousness that had quickly settled in the moment that he had unwrapped my scales.

"Stupid Viking," he narrows his eyes. "I have a name you know."

I smile.

"Please, do inform me what it is?"

He rolls his eyes, something I'm sure he picked up from me.

"It is most certainly not '_Toothless.'_"

"Whatever," I laugh. "See you."

I go to grab my axe and he doesn't stop me. I then turn and walk away.

He calls out just before I disappear.

"My name is Hiccup."

I smile.

I get halfway back to Berk before I jerk to a stop in realization of four very important things.

The first; the Night Fury hadn't talked as a figment of my imagination, he had actually talked. Out loud.

The second; I talked back to it. And he understood me.

The third; I had turned my back on a Dragon. The very same thing Gobber had literally just told me today to never, ever do with a Dragon.

And the fourth, the one that should scare me the most but for some reason didn't; I did the last two things as if they were the most natural thing in the world.

* * *

><p><strong>And so she finally meets Hiccup! Sorry if I made revealing her scales really rushed, it was supposed to be short for dramatic effect but I think it just came out rushed...oh well.<strong>

**But yay! She finally met him! And I love how it takes her a while to realize that he was actually talking out loud. I also love how his first words to her are (quote/unquote) 'Supid Viking.' :) Yes it's early for another update but I promised updates at least every Thursday and I have blown that off three times now, so hope this makes up for it? See you next time!**


	5. How To Brave The Dark

Oh my gods, the Night Fury _spoke._

What do I do? Do I stay away? Do I go back?

Come on, I have to go back, I promised I would. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Sometimes I wonder if that Dragon's trying to make my life miserable. But I suppose it's not his fault I'm Bonding and just happen to not be able to kill him.

I furiously scratch at my scales in my room, once again sifting through the Dragon Manual. These Night Fury pages are empty, which don't really surprise me, but still. Maybe I can get him to draw something for me, he did pretty good at it in the dirt...

_"Stupid Viking."_

So the Dragon knew how to speak. That's a first. But how is he able to speak? Can all Dragons speak?

I grumble and push my charcoal pencil back and forth on my desk. I attempted to doodle something in the Night Fury pages but I can't draw to save my life.

_"I have a name you know."_

Maybe the Night Fury was special, so that's why we don't know anything of them. All I knew was that they were super rare and dangerous. So far, all he had done to me was learn my secret and accidentally scratch my arm. And stare at me. And talk to me. And- you know what? It's not important.

_"It is most certainly not _'Toothless.'_"_

Who knew Dragons were so temperamental? Oh, right. I'd have to sneak some clothes for him, as well. Maybe I can visit after training. That would be good. I can bring fish and his clothes and maybe ask a few questions. Bring paper, but not the Dragon Manual. He would probably be offended by the things in there.

"Astrid," Gobber knocks, making me jump.

"Oh, hey, Gobber," I say awkwardly and totally unsuspicious-like. Because I'm just talented that way. But I really have nothing to hide, it's not like I have evidence of the Night Fury, and my scales are tightly secured in their wool arm wrappings.

"Time for the bonfire, dinner time. Stoick wants to talk about another search. Let's see how this goes."

"Yeah, okay, whatever," I wave him off, smiling to show that I heard and gesturing him to leave. It's a good thing I was normally a sour patch for people entering my room, as he doesn't question when I silently ask him to go away.

I sigh and fall back in my chair.

This bonfire is going to be a blast. Not.

_"My name is Hiccup."_

Right before I head out, I pause for a moment to wonder who, be it Dragon or Viking, in great Thor would name their child 'Hiccup.'

* * *

><p>"One more search, before the ice sets in," Stoick insists, slamming a dagger down on a point on the large map. We had all finished dinner and had moved to the Great Hall, where Stoick was now talking about another search party. Which never usually went well.<p>

I had personally never been on one, but I had always thought they would be a good learning experience. Now I'm not so sure.

"Most searches never come back."

True, very true.

"We're Vikings, it's an occupational hazard!" Stoick argues with the random Viking.

I think back to Tooth- I mean, Hiccup, and wonder what kind of Viking I am. I'm a Viking, so I must be somewhat crazy. I didn't have a crazy streak in me, just a violent-by-nature one. Crazy seemed to skip a generation with me, as I never felt the need to inflict pain upon myself to feel joy (like _some_ people), or inflate my entire being with egotistical dreams (like some _other _people). All I wanted was to be the best. I always assumed crazy just wasn't me.

I suppose the gods had to prove me wrong somehow, yet again. The only way for me to help out this Night Fury is to resolve to all 'crazy' possible.

"Now who's with me?" Stoick calls, but barely anyone raises their hands.

I know he'll be able to get volunteers somehow, seeing as he's the chief and all, so I slip out the giant doors (which is a very difficult task that I have mastered over the years) and quickly dart along to the docks.

I don't know why I choose to go here, maybe the sound of the waves soothes me.

I want to pray to the gods, but even if they did hear me, I'm sure they wouldn't help me. Not only do they seem to have a personal vendetta against me by making my life suck in every way possible, but there is no way they would help me with this crisis.

If it were up to them, I'm sure they would rather have the Night Fury eat me. One less Dragon to worry about, right? They wouldn't want me helping a Dragon.

I sit down cross-legged, leaning back on my arms and staring up at the moonlight. It feels nice. I can almost understand why the Night Fury enjoys the night. It's quiet, peaceful, and filled with solitude. Lots of Vikings are afraid of the dark when they are young, but I never was, and I still am not. I don't know why, just the dark never scared me.

The dark was where the mysteries were, and where the unknown lay hidden in wait. It's where the monsters and the Dragons thrive, patiently awaiting for the moment you have your back turned to pounce and devour you whole, and there is no way to protect yourself because there is no sight.

But the dark is also where we dream. And my dreams mostly include what I wish my life was like. It's not all that bad to be in the dark. Specifically because no one can see you. You don't have to be perfect, you don't have to be a great warrior, heck, you don't even have to be human. All you have to be is you.

I would never admit this, but that's all I've ever dreamed of.

Sometimes I wish the night could last forever. I mean, sunshine's overrated, and we don't get any anyways, so what's the difference. The dark can be scary, but that's just facing your fears, and we Vikings are all about that. I wonder if there are ever Vikings who would shy away from a beast as terrifying as the Night Fury.

_Yes, oh so terrifying with his cute ear flaps, human-like teeth, and the way he curls up with his tail._

_Shut up. He's terrifying, okay?_

Growing up, I always waited for the moment when I would become a true Valkyrie, a real shield maiden, and when I would bring my family honor. My uncle Turning shook me up, and I realized that I never wanted to feel that helpless to help anyone ever again. But now I feel like I am. But the only person I'm failing is myself.

My scales burn, but I bite back a grimace and shrug it off. I'm not stopping it. It's only getting worse. And I'm getting more scared by the day.

I'm not supposed to be scared, by the gods! I'm not supposed to want to cower in fear and my life isn't supposed to end like this.

But would it be so bad to be a Dragon? To be able to fly away from all my troubles and attack anything that stood in my way? Being a Dragon doesn't sound all that bad when I put it that way, but I have hopes, dreams, ambitions, that I have sworn to follow. Plus, this whole deathly-hate for Dragons doesn't help the matter.

I sigh and get up, glaring at the moon for being so bright and constant.

_It _never changes, it's always there and it doesn't have to worry about being anything else, all it is is the moon and nothing more, nothing less. It doesn't have expectations to abide by and codes and Bonding.

If reincarnation is possible, I would like to think I would come back as something important. But the truth is, if I do come back, all I'd want to be is a cloud, or something. Something that everybody looks at everyday, but they don't care what it is or what it's doing because it's an inanimate thing and inanimate things don't have thoughts or feelings.

Or maybe they do, they just don't have the ability to voice them.

On second thought, I'd rather stay in Helheim, where I'm bound to be after all of this is over.

* * *

><p>"Hey, Toothless," I mock, cautiously stepping into the cove. I shoulder a large basket filled with fish. I figure a Dragon eats more than the average Viking so I came prepared.<p>

I also brought with me a small knapsack with fresh clothes, some paper, three charcoal pencils, and my axe slung across my back. I didn't bring a shield, but I'm hoping I won't need it.

I hear a swooping sound behind me, and I turn to find the Night Fury.

"I hope you appreciate all the trouble it took for me to get you these things," I say, eying him.

I'm debating on whether or not he'll be friendly today, or if he'll disregard all interactions as of yesterday and kill me. But his eyes are largely dilated, so I think I'm good.

He looks happier, more excited. It's amazing what one fish can do to a puny Dragon.

"So, I brought you a big basket of fish, and some clothes. And you seemed to like to draw so I brought some stuff for that. What are you looking at?"

He grins.

"...You can still talk, right? That...wasn't my imagination?"

If possible, his grin gets even larger, and he shakes his head.

"Okay, good. So I'm just getting the silent treatment?"

"The what?"

Even though I know he is capable of speech, it still throws me for a loop.

"Um...never mind. I, uh, brought you, this stuff." I point to all the things I had dumped on the ground, and some fish tails stick out of the basket.

"Food!" he calls and dives in, ripping into raw fish and sorting through the pile.

"Yeah, I brought you some fresh Icelandic cod, some salmon, and even a whole smoked eel."

He freezes and narrows his eyes, curling his lip up in a snarl.

"A what?" His voice is suddenly deep and dark, sending a shiver down my spine.

"Um, what's wrong?"

"D-did you say an eel?" he asks again, but he sounds different this time. Like he's hiding something.

"Yeah. What's wrong? Did I- oh," I cut off in realization. "You're afraid of eels, aren't you?"

He snorts disgracefully. "I am most certainly not."

"You are," I try my hardest, but I can't help a small smile creep onto my face.

"I am not."

"You are."

"Am not."

"Are, too."

"Am no- oh my Alpha get that _thing _away from me!" he shrieks, shying away about eight feet from the yellow and black eel I had subtly raised in his line of sight.

I snuff out the sound of my laughter and put on a straight face.

"Hey, it's okay. I don't really like eels much, myself," I try to console him, as I want to remain on friendly terms. I throw the eel as far as I can into the cove, wiping off my hands on my skirt. "See? All gone."

"Are you sure?" he sounds wary, but he's hungry enough that he slowly approaches the basket of food.

"Yes. I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were afraid of eels," I say honestly.

"Most Dragons are," he grumbles, as if unhappy about the fact.

He sits and scarfs down one fish in about ten seconds, quickly moving on to the next.

"So..." I start. "Your name's Hiccup?"

"Mm hmm," he mumbles through a mouthful.

"That's quite the...interesting name."

_Gulp._

"Yeah, yeah, laugh all you want. I didn't name myself, my mom did. And either way, it's a thousand times better than 'Toothless,'" he snaps his jaw closed, with his Dragon teeth fully visible. "That's just an insult to my ability."

"Of course. Hiccup."

He takes another bite.

"Ss wh's yerr nm?"

"Come again?" I ask, as I can't understand him with a mouth full of fish.

"What's your name?"

"Oh. It's, um..." Should I tell him? Is it wise to tell a Dragon your true name? But then, he told me his. And he hasn't killed me. So I guess that means we're friends.

"Hiccup is actually my real name. My mom named me that, I swear."

I stare at him. It's like he read my mind.

"It's Astrid," I tell him.

"Hmm, 'divine beauty.' An appropriate name."

I curse the fact that a wave of heat rushes to my face. So what, he just basically called me 'pretty.' That is what my name means, so why am I getting all shaken up?

I don't know why, but all of a sudden, I feel a little self conscious. Hiccup- though he has a funny name- is strong, a Dragon, obviously smart, and could beat me in a fight. I'm not going to lie, he is maybe the tiniest bit handsome. Just a little bit. But he's a Dragon so it shouldn't matter. But for some reason it does and all I can think about is how plain I must look in my simple brown Viking skirt, black leggings, thick winter boots, blue striped shirt, shoulder pads and arm wrappings. I'm not really eye-catching, in my opinion, so I normally don't care.

So why do I now?

I clear my throat and push my golden bangs out of my face. I want to direct the attention somewhere else, so I turn the focal point back to him.

"So, you're mother. There are more Night Furies?"

His mouth stiffens and twists in a thoughtful way.

"No. As far as I know, I'm the only Night Fury out there."

"Wait, sorry, I'm confused. How does that-"

"Each person is different. So of course, they're going to Bond with a different Dragon. My mom is a Stormcutter, and I don't know what my dad was. My mom said he died, but he was a great Dragon. I don't think he was a Night Fury, though. What kind of Dragon you Bond with isn't based on genetics, but who you are individually."

"How does that work?" I ask. To my surprise, I am quite intrigued by what he is talking about.

"Ancestral Dragons were a bit more...territorial. Mostly, they either traveled solo or stuck to a group within their own species. Us Dragons today are still half human, so we are naturally sociable creatures. So we stick together, mostly."

"Cool," I say, but more to say something than anything. "So, Dragons can reproduce with another Dragon that is not the same species?"

"Yeah," he replies. "My dad certainly wasn't a Stormcutter, and I know lots of Dragons who have different species Dragons as parents."

"Oh," I say. "Hey, I brought you some new clothes, just like I promised."

"What's wrong with my clothes?" he asks sincerely, furrowing his brow at his pants.

I snort, but then cover it up because I'd still rather remain polite. "You don't even have a shirt anymore, your pants are shredded at the bottom and there's no way you can be comfortable with no shoes."

"I have warmth," he smiles, raising his hand upwards and igniting a miniature blue bonfire on the palm of his hand.

I look away. "Please don't do that."

"Why? Because it reminds you of what you are about to be able to do?"

I snap my head up and glare at him. I hate that he takes on my iciest glare with a look of pure curiosity.

"I am not going to Turn," I tell him firmly.

"Yes you are. It's already starting. I can sense it. Besides, what else would those scales mean?" he gestures to my wrists, and I snarl at him.

"Shut up. I'm not going to become a _Dragon._"

"You say that like it's a bad thing," he sounds almost offended as he unfurls his tail, making a scratching noise against the earth.

I sigh. "I'm sorry. But it's just that Vikings hate Dragons, and they aren't supposed to Turn."

"But they do all the time," he points out.

"True," I admit, "but Vikings still hate Dragons."

Hiccup pauses.

"Then," he says thoughtfully, "I suppose you aren't a Viking."

"What did you say?" This time, it's me who sounds offended. But I don't care. Even from a Dragon, the words sting. I've worked too hard at this.

"You don't hate me."

"How do you know?" I ask, but I don't sound like I mean it, not even to my own ears.

"Because you came back."

I stop and stare fixedly at one point in the ground. I have always known just much this Dragon depends on me. He knows I won't kill him, but he's stuck here and I'm the only one who can help him. But it suddenly occurs to me that maybe- just maybe- he had been afraid I wouldn't come back. That I would leave him to starve. He doesn't know how to use his hands, he'd be stuck here for all eternity. But I can help him.

And he was smiling because I had come back.

"I don't hate you," I say honestly, which comes as a surprise as I realize that I really don't. "But I'm still a Viking."

"Whatever you say." His tone is doubtful, and that's what worries me.

I change the subject.

"I brought you some clothes," I say, and get up to hand him the knapsack.

"Okay," he sighs, and looks into the bag.

"Look, your clothes now aren't going to help you. Winter is coming and whether or not you can shoot fire, you're gonna freeze. Just be happy," I say, fed up with grumpy Dragons.

He warbles and paws at the pile of clothes that he dumped out.

I sigh, shaking my head.

"Hands. Fingers, separate, use," I remind him, flexing my fingers as example.

"Right," he reciprocates the movements experimentally before going back to the clothes uncertainly.

"Useless half-reptile," I mutter.

I don't see his left ear flap twitch.

"I heard that," he announces without looking up.

"Um...sorry..." I say awkwardly.

"Whatever," he waves it off. But then I catch something just under his breath.

I could have sworn it was, "Stupid half-human."

I cross my arms. "Did you just say what I think you said?"

He looks back, successfully holding the green tunic.

"What?" he asks, a little too innocently. Where in the world did this Dragon learn sarcasm?

"Go behind that rock and change," I say, ignoring his remark for the time being.

He wasn't being serious, try not to take it to heart, I tell myself.

"Why?"

I mentally do a face palm.

"Because...well, you're _changing._" Gosh darn it doesn't this Dragon know anything?

Okay, stupid question.

But then again, how did he know about the terms we use? Like Bonding, Turning, and such...?

For another time, I suppose.

"Changing?" he asks.

"Seriously?" I respond, really not wanting to explain.

He still looks confused.

I sigh. "You don't...change clothes in front of someone else. _Especially _if it's a...female."

I swear I was as bright as Gobber's ridiculous reindeer nose he always wears for Snoggletog.

"Oh... Why?"

"Oh my gods, Hiccup, just go change behind the rocks!" I shout, pointing him away.

He smiles, amused, but obeys.

Suddenly, I realize something, and I feel like an absolute idiot.

"Wait, Hiccup! The shirt doesn't have-"

But he walks out with the new outfit, and I can't say I'm not surprised. He actually looks _good._

All I could find that would possibly fit him was a long sleeved green tunic, a fur vest, some long brown trousers, and a thick belt, but he pulls it off pretty good.

But how did he get his wings through the shirt?

"... How did you-"

He puts his finger to his lip and smiles deviously. "Shh, it's a secret."

"Well, I suppose I have enough of those. What's one more?" I ask sarcastically.

He laughs, and I once again marvel in the fact that I'm talking better with a Dragon than I do with any other Viking.

I can't explain it, but it's like all of a sudden we're just friends. Not enemies anymore, but actual friends.

I also can't believe that I find myself to be okay with that.

Well, like I said. I have so many secrets. What's one more?

* * *

><p><strong>Hey, so I'm actually updating correctly! Sorry it was kinda suck-ish in this chapter, but it's late and I'm procrastinating my homework...which I should go do now...<strong>

**Anyways, I will try to update again before next Thursday, but if I don't, see you all then! And thank you for the lovely reviews! They make me happy. :)**


	6. How To Un-Down A Dragon

"So, how are these clothes helpful?" Hiccup asks, tugging at the sleeves.

I sigh. "Because they give you a lot more warmth than what your other clothes would give you."

"But I _liked _my other clothes," he grumbles, clicking in a Dragon-like way.

"Well, get over yourself," I mumble.

He shoots a glare at me, dilating his eyes slightly.

I look down.

"Um, sorry," I choke out.

Here's the thing; I don't like apologizing to people. I'm not good at it either. But when there's a Dragon in front of you and your axe is laying uselessly on the other side of a cove, not to mention if your right arm is broken and you're freaking _right handed, _I'd rather swallow my pride and give the Dragon an apology.

But that son of a half-troll breaks into a large and toothy grin.

I fold my arms and glare at him through narrowed eyes.

"Not funny. You could at least, like, you know, _not _act like you're going to threaten me?"

He stops laughing. His smile is gone, but it takes a moment longer before the amusement fades.

"I am sorry, Astrid," I startle a little when he actually uses my name, but why I can't possibly imagine, "but I won't hurt you. I promise."

The mood had turned serious, and I find that I don't like it. So, I show one of my rare humorous sides and attempt to pick the mood up.

"Well, I'd promise the same thing, but I don't know if that's a promise I can keep."

He catches the playful tone, and smiles.

"Great! Just wait until you can fly," he jumps up and down like an energetic toddler, and forcing my eyes to follow his enthusiastic behavior.

"Do Dragons age the same way Vikings do?" I ask randomly when the thought comes to mind.

He pauses.

"Um...yes, I do believe so. But added health benefits, so we don't die of disease or starvation."

"Figures," I mutter under my breath. Of course Dragons would be better than Vikings. Why wouldn't they?

Oh great, I just admitted that Dragons were better than Vikings. Okay, maybe it was through some heavily veiled sarcasm, but I still had thought it. And that was not okay by Vikings standards.

"So, tell me about Vikings," Hiccup asks, diving back to the rocks and propping up on one.

"You are a little energizer bunny," I murmur, but I wander over and sit down a few feet away from him.

"What do you want to know?" I ask. He opens his mouth, but I cut him off. "And don't say 'everything.'"

He promptly closes it again.

"Fine," he says instead, "tell me about why Vikings hate Dragons. I never understand that one."

"Oh, that's easy, it's because-"

I cut myself off.

It seems like that would be such an easy question to answer, but to be perfectly honest, it's kind of a difficult question. Why do we hate Dragons? What exactly did they do to us that was so terrible, every single one of them deserved to be written off as a dangerous character? To be perfectly honest, I don't really know, and I'm not even sure that any other Viking could answer that.

I purse my lips, searching for an answer.

"Well, why do Dragons hate Vikings?" I ask.

To my surprise, Hiccup just shrugs. "Beats me. I wouldn't know."

"You...wouldn't know?" I repeat slowly.

He shakes his head. "No. I don't hate Vikings. My mom does, so I could ask her..."

I instantly feel guilty. Hiccup might never be able to see his mother again. And it's all my fault. He can't fly. He can't get away. My fault. Because he knew my secret.

I mean, we were friends...right? Were we friends? I don't know. I wouldn't exactly think of him, I think it would be more of a mutually intended term when we really thought about it, but I don't know if he would trust his life with mine willingly, I sure wouldn't.

If you think I'm being a little rude, think of it from my perspective. Sure, he hasn't killed me, and by now I highly doubt that he will, but he still could. And I'm a Viking. It's in my blood to hate Vikings (for reasons I still can't figure out, but I'm just supposed to, okay?). It'll take more than two days to turn my opinion around.

Hiccup trusts me with his life because he has to. It's not an option, it's a choice.

"I'm sorry, Hiccup," I tell him sincerely. "You'll never be able to fly again, and it's all my fault."

I hang my head down low in shame. Look at me, I'm supposed to be a Viking. I'm supposed to be strong, merciless, and fearless. And now I'm feeling shame because I downed a Dragon.

I can't find it in me to care.

"Astrid, I..." But not even Hiccup has anything to say to that.

"Why don't you hate me?" I ask quietly.

But, being a Dragon, he hears it.

"I don't know. Because you didn't kill me? Because you came back?" he offers.

"That's not...reasonable!" I exclaim in frustration. "How do you not hate me? I ruined your life! Don't Dragons hold grudges? _Why _don't you hate me?"

He looks a little taken back by my sudden outburst, but his eyes soften when I rise to meet his.

Blue on green.

Pupils on slits.

Viking on Dragon.

"Astrid," he says again slowly, as if he's just testing out my name. "I don't hate you."

I stare down again, defeated. Just in those words, I suddenly know that it's true. He doesn't hate me. Obviously.

"You know what, let's just...not talk about it," I finish weakly.

"Want to talk about Dragons?" he asks, sensing that my world was a bit of a sore subject.

"Sure," I smile weakly.

I hate feeling this vulnerable. I wouldn't dare show this much emotion in front of another Viking, so why would I want to do it here? Something about Hiccup makes me feel like I'm not quite as strong as I think I am, but it's okay.

Bu the thing is, it's _not _okay.

"Actually, I need to go," I announce, standing up.

"Oh, okay," Hiccup seems almost...disappointed? I shrug it off and go over to grab my axe.

"I'll bring you more things tomorrow."

"Okay," he says. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Maybe tomorrow I can teach you to draw," I offer.

He brightens up a bit, and nods.

"Bye," I say and turn around without looking back.

* * *

><p>I don't really go back. I don't feel like it. I go to the woods and throw my axe around because I need to feel like my old self again, and I need to feel in control. Control is something that I've always had, and to have it suddenly ripped away by the thing I should hate most is a little shaking.<p>

I grunt as I heave the axe into the tree. It lands with a _thunk,_ but somehow, I feel like it's no longer satisfying.

The axe buried in the dead center of the tree, exactly where I aimed, just reminds me of what I can do. I can do this. I can be perfect, dead center, flawless. I can do all of these things. Odin's beard, why would I give that up?

I wouldn't. That's what. I wouldn't and I couldn't.

Even if Hiccup seemed like something new from my slightly dreary but totally predictable life, I can't risk it. I've worked my entire life for the future I have now. I'm already walking down that road. Hiccup is just a small pothole in my road. That's all. The rest is smooth, as if it were paved over with tar, and hardened to perfection.

_That's _who I am. And no Dragon, whether or not he's friendly and makes me feel just the tiniest bit of freedom, can change that. I won't let it happen. Not as long as I stand.

I angrily stalk over to the tree and rip it out.

I suddenly remember that I had been throwing with my left hand. And I'm not left handed.

I smile. I don't miss. Even when I'm handicapped. Because Astrid Hofferson is perfect, and that's all I ask.

I look down at the handle, and my smile fades. My arm wrappings are just a cruel reminder of how unperfect I am. These stupid scales appeared, and everything changed. I became even more distant, angrier, and trained harder. I could mask it, I was positive.

How stupid of me to even consider that becoming a Dragon wouldn't be so bad. It would be bad. It would be throwing everything away and leaving my perfect road, all for something unknown. It would be veering off and simply thrusting myself headfirst into the woods on either side of me, brushing through a random path that nobody had ever gone down before.

I don't want that. It scares me.

Normally, anything that scares me, I face head on, glaring it down with an axe in one hand and a shield in the other. But in this case, even I can admit that some things are better off unknown.

Helping Hiccup, I had already gone too far off my path. How can I help him and get back on the right track?

_A downed Dragon, is a dead Dragon..._

He couldn't fly again because of his tailfin. If I could somehow fix it...

Yes. That's it! Of course, how could I not see this? I can help Hiccup, _and _get back to my rightful path!

I throw my axe over my shoulder and race back to Berk. Tonight would be another late night, but this time it would be in the forge.

* * *

><p><em>Clang!<em>

Yes, this is perfect. A great idea, really. Hiccup will be able to leave and I'll be able to get this weight off my chest.

_Clang!_

Of course I'll have to get his word that he'll never tell a soul about my secret...

_Clang!_

But I'm like, seventy percent sure that Dragon's word is worth something, right? Besides, I don't think Hiccup will tell. I hope.

_Clang!_

But this will work. Sure, most of my inventions have gone haywire before, but the bola worked, did it not? Maybe a little _too _well but it worked all the same.

_Clang!_

"That should do it," I smile proudly, setting the hammer down and pushing the metal rod in some water. Smoke rises out of the water and fans out in my face.

After I finish the rod, I quickly cut out some leather and attach it to the metal frame I had already made.

Hmm...I didn't make measurements...I hope this will fit. But it has to. The sooner we can get Hiccup back in the air the sooner we can go separate ways.

I smile and close the new prosthetic tailfin, setting it down on the desk. And I don't even acknowledge the fact that I'm excited to see Hiccup tomorrow.

* * *

><p>With the tailfin tucked under one arm and a basket of fish slung over my shoulder (no eels, of course), I stumble down to the cove.<p>

"Hiccup?" I call softly.

No Night Fury in sight. I swear if he's-

"Hi Astrid."

"AAH!"

I screech and drop the fish, glaring at the laughing Dragon.

"I. Hate. You." I declare, standing back up.

"Ooh! Fish!" he exclaims and literally rips open the basket with claws.

I sigh. "Hands," I remind him.

"Sorry," he says through a mouthful.

"Whatever," I dismiss it.

He shrugs.

I whistle (very subtly, I might add) and pray that he doesn't notice the strange contraption under my arm.

"Don't mind me, I'll just be back here, minding my own business..." I murmur, darting my eyes back to him every now and then. Mother of Thor does that Dragon eat fast.

I quickly get to attaching his new tail. Just my luck, it fits. It might need a few adjustments here and there. I guess Hiccup's so occupied he doesn't notice me back here. Which is all the better.

"Well, a little rough around the edges, but, it'll do," I say to myself, happy that it fits.

"What are you...?" Hiccup asks slowly. I turn to say something, but he's staring at his tail. His eyes dilate into thin slits.

"It's just...oh no, Hiccup, don't-"

But it's too late. I can see something shift in his eyes. He feels the tail. It's not like it's bad, or is scratching at him, or he just hates anything that has Viking (which is obviously not the case as he's still wearing the green tunic, pants, and vest), but I can see it. No, it's not that something feels _different _to him, it's that something feels _right._

With no warning whatsoever, he hurls himself in the air. Which wouldn't have been so bad, as he'd only fall into the lake, if he hadn't had a certain blonde-haired Viking clinging to his tail.

"Whoa!" I cry, attempting to push my stomach back down my throat as he flies for at a vertical angle for just a few seconds.

The feeling of calm lasts for maybe half a second before he starts to fall back into the cove and my stomach leaps into my throat once again, threatening to empty itself if it doesn't stop, like, _now._

Somehow, my hands control themselves and I shift forward so that I can wrench open the tail.

The falling stops and he instead soars over the lake.

"Yes! It worked!" I exclaim, cheering to myself. "I did it!"

Hiccup suddenly notices that I'm stuck to his tail, and his eyes dilate back into more normal sized pupils.

"Astrid, what are you-"

"_Hiccup, fly!_" I screech, as in noticing me, he happened to forget about flapping his wings.

He curses something that I don't quite catch, but it's too late. We are thrown head first into the lake.

He quickly resurfaces, his face slightly red.

"Astrid, I'm so sorry! I didn't mean- w-why are you...?"

He starts to apologize when I come up sputtering out water, but then he notices that I'm not actually choking, I'm just laughing.

I can't believe it worked! Well, I can, obviously, but still!

"Oh my...Great Odin, it worked..." I gasp between breaths.

"What are you talking about?" he asks, confused.

"Hiccup, you flew!" I shout, jumping up and cheering.

"I did?"

"Oh gods, you useless half-reptile, yes! You did! I made a new tail and it worked and-"

I sink back under the water for a moment and Hiccup drags me back up, swimming both of us to the shore with swift grace and ease.

"It worked. It really worked," I start laughing hysterically once again. What is wrong with me?

Okay, that was a rhetorical question, don't even think about answering it.

"So...you made me...a new tail?" Hiccup asks in amazement, lifting his tail in front of his face in wonder.

"Uh huh," I say, smiling as he observes the tan leather. "I'll have to teach you to operate it, but I'm sure we can work something out," I add proudly.

"You are amazing, thank you!" he says, finally seeming to grasp that he'll be able to fly again.

"Don't worry, we'll get you back in the air," I promise, meaning it.

Hiccup chuckles and looks at me.

"Really. Thank you," he says.

I smile and nod, suddenly feeling awkward. So yeah, we can get him back in the air. Then it'll be back to concealing for me. I can make this work. I can and I _will._

"I-I'm gonna leave the tail here with you, but, don't mess with it, okay?" I tell him, and he agrees.

"Alright," I say, trying to fill the strange feeling with something- anything. "I'll see you tomorrow, Toothless."

He rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything.

"Sorry about your basket," he says, cringing when we walk over there.

"It's fine," I say. "I'm gonna take your tail off now, okay?"

I look back at him and for some odd reason, he's grinning. I narrow my eyes. "What?"

"Nothing," he immediately says, but a hint of the smile is still there. "And okay."

I tilt my head at him, but I don't comment. Instead, I undo the straps to his leather prosthetic tail and drag it over to the rocks.

"Okay," I mutter to myself. "Let's just take this one step at a time."

"See you later you stupid half-human," Hiccup says, smiling again.

Something in the way he says it doesn't make me freeze with fear. It feels like more of an...what's that they call it? And inside joke? Maybe. But for some reason, I don't find it insulting anymore.

"Bye," I respond, "useless reptile."

He grins cheekily and turns to go.

I'm almost out of ear shot when I hear him call out, "I told you you don't hate Dragons!"

What was that supposed to mean? I ponder it all the way home.

It isn't until I get to my room and start going through my Dragon Manual that I realize what he meant.

My axe lays leaned against my bedroom wall, untouched since this morning.

* * *

><p><strong>Aww, she's trusting him more and she doesn't even realize it! I just love Hiccstrid, I think they're the cutest couple. No offense to you Merricup shippers...but Hiccstrid is waaay better. Haha, moving on now.<strong>

**As some of you have noticed, if you have your PMing abilities on, then I will answer your review if you have a Fanfiction account. So thank you all for reviewing!**


	7. How To Fall In A Lake (Multiple Times)

**_Hiccup's Flight Record_**

_Day One_

_After the first test flight, we now know that the tail does work, but it needs someone to control it. Teaching Hiccup to use his hands is a lot harder than I would have thought. We made no progress in two hours, so we resolved to using his appendages instead of fingers. I suppose if you had never used your hands for, oh, fifteen years, it would be a bit overwhelming. How old is he, anyways? I should probably find that out..._

_Back on topic. Today, I brought a string of rope. I at first tried to attach it to his leg. Something about his tail and positioning didn't work, and he just ended falling in the lake._

_We tried this several times, but it all ended with that useless Night Fury dragging his sorry butt out of the water._

* * *

><p><em>Day two<em>

_We tried his wrist this time, so he still wouldn't have to use his fingers. The rope seems to get tangled up with his tail every time when it's on his wrist, and it messes him up. Plus, pulling it open sometimes is a little harsh. Hiccup fell in the lake a total of two times because on the second time he tore the tailfin and now I have to fix it._

_No progress whatsoever._

* * *

><p><em>Day three<em>

_So...wrist is a no. He keeps falling in the lake! I'll admit, it is quite amusing but all of those mild calibration issues keep adding up, and I can't think of any other way than for him to be able to use his hands to reach down and shift...gears, or positions, or something. I'll have to take it back and add some additions, and maybe some blueprints so he can study them. Sorry Hiccup, but you're just going to have to use your hands._

_Hiccup is also learning to read and he just complained about having to use his hands. Is it bad that I pushed him back in the water?_

* * *

><p>I close the small leather bound journal and stuff it back in my sack.<p>

The Night Fury comes gasping and sputtering back to the shore, once again dripping wet. I hold back a laugh with much difficulty but I can't help the smug smile that crosses my face.

He glares at me and growls softly, but I've come to learn the difference between threatening and...well, not-really-threatening.

"I _just _dried off," he whines, shaking his hair out of his eyes and flapping his wings.

The movement sends showers of droplets towards me and I end up having to wipe water out of my eyes.

"You'll live, Toothless," I say in annoyance, drawing out a hunting knife to sharpen my charcoal pencil.

"My name is _not _Toothless, Stormy."

Ever since he called me a 'little storm' one afternoon when I was frustrated with his tail, he didn't seem to mind his ridiculous nickname as much. Of course, that means he calls me 'Stormy,' and I'm still trying to figure out whether that's an insult or compliment, or maybe even a little of both.

"Whatever," I roll my eyes, unable to think of a comeback that wouldn't involve him calling me 'Stormy' or me calling him 'Toothless' again.

"What was that, anyways?" he asks when I put the pencil away.

"If you must know, I'm keeping track of your progress. So far, most of it ends with you flying your way headfirst into the lake."

"It's not my fault! I just can't seem to get above these stupid walls," he mutters angrily.

Something pulls inside me. Maybe guilt.

"It's okay, we'll figure it out," I promise, hoping that it's true.

He doesn't respond. Instead, he wanders over to the basket and pulls out a salmon, absentmindedly gulping it down in four swift bites. Dragons sure eat a lot. But why can't they hunt for themselves instead of raiding our village?

As a matter of fact, I asked Hiccup that the other day, and he just pointed the conversation back to something else. It didn't make sense, but then again, what in this world did? Still, I'm curious as to why they would steal from us opposed to hunting for their own food.

"If we add gears, all you'd have to do was shift in between them, and you'd be able to manipulate the tailfin. You just have to get used to using these," I wiggle my fingers as example.

He sighs. "I can't seem to figure it out. Every time I get used to doing it, it becomes foreign and strange again. Dragons don't need fingers, so why should we use them? My mom would have taught me, but..." he fades off, looking thoughtful. His green eyes had dilated into very large, almost squared pupils. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they almost looked...sad.

"Don't worry, we'll get you back to your family- or, whatever a group of Dragons is called. You'll be back in the air in no time, I'm sure of it."

"Thanks, Astrid."

I blink in surprise. He doesn't say my name too often. And when he does, it always sounds strange on his lips, as if he was not made to be pronouncing it. Which, I suppose, he isn't. But when he uses my name, I can't help but feel just the slightest bit flattered.

I rub it off with my usual emotionless demeanor.

"Don't thank me yet. Or ever. It's my fault you're downed in the first place. I owe you one."

"You don't owe me," he says in my ear, and I nearly fall off the rock I'm sitting on because he was literally twenty feet away one second ago.

"Don't...give...me a heart attack!" I push him away, and I only pause for a moment to marvel at how easy it had been for me to touch him. "And yes, I do."

"No you don't." he immediately denies.

"Hiccup, it's my fault you're stuck here in the first place."

"Yes, but you spared my life. I'd say that more than makes up for it. Especially since I'm a Dragon and you're a...well, a Viking." I can tell that it stings a little for him to admit that I'm the same as everybody else in my village, but if that were true, would I still be here? The answer is that I honestly don't know.

"But you didn't kill me. So I owe you, okay?" I push, but once again that pesky Night Fury comes up with a reply.

"But you came back. And you helped me. Helping me."

"That didn't make sense."

"Oh, for the love of- just accept that you don't owe me anything!" he throws up his hands and walks away, and I laugh at how funny his frustration looks on him.

"You're not made to be frustrated, are you?"

"I'm meant to be either fierce, threatening, or downright terrifying. Which would you prefer?"

"Hmm, heavy sarcasm seems to be part of your chemical buildup," I note in a mocking and scientific tone.

"Shut up."

"No, I don't think I will."

"A bold thing to say in front of the acclaimed Night Fury," he grins mischievously.

"A _toothless _Night Fury-"

Before I can blink an eye, I'm suddenly being tackled into the water.

I come up sputtering the same way Hiccup had just a few minutes ago.

"You are such a jerk!" I screech, and splash water at him.

He gives me a very _un_-toothless smile and splashes back. I can't help but laugh.

"Useless half-reptile," I insult.

"Stupid half-human," he fires back.

I don't even stop to think about the overall weirdness of the situation: Just us, a Viking and a Night Fury, without a weapon in sight and absolutely no intention of either of us harming the other.

* * *

><p>"Alright, I think I have it," I announce the next day. There is no way possible that I can sneak up on Hiccup, so I pretty much skip the greetings and small talk.<p>

As usual, Hiccup is waiting for me happily. "Okay."

"Okay?" I raise my eyebrow and drop the tailfin on the ground. "That's all I get? For staying up all night long and then raising up at the crack of dawn for early morning training-"

"Training?"

Oh, shoot.

"Uh...yeah...for, uh...Viking...stuff..."

"Cool. Did you bring food?" he asks with different enthusiasm.

"What? I mean, yeah. I did." I dropped the basket of fish as well.

"You really like fish," I comment, amused.

"Uh huh. Most Dragons do."

"If they like fish so much then why do they raid our sheep?"

But he's already scarfing down his meal, and he doesn't hear me. Or, maybe he did, but just pretended not to.

After he finished an hour's worth of fishing (in about five minutes flat), he was ready to get started.

"So, what's the plan today?" he jumps up, licking his lips.

"You're going to learn gears," I say.

He pauses and looks nervous. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Sure. We'll find a way so that I can fly with you up there for a moment so we can see if it actually works or not, but after that, we should be able to get you flying."

"Okay," he says.

"Just the thing, though...how am I going to fly with you?"

"Easy, can't you just fly yourself?"

I freeze at his suggestion. Subconsciously, I sneak a glance down at my arm wrappings.

"I'm sure you can get your wings."

"But...if I get my wings, I'll Turn, and I won't be able to go back..."

He doesn't have anything to say to that, and I didn't expect him to.

"I'm sure I can just carry you. I'm stronger than I look, you know," he says.

I twist my mouth into a thin, hard line and run my hands up either sides of the insides of my wrists. My scales haven't bothered me too much, but once I added the pressure, it was like they wanted to come alive and were buzzing with energy.

Another thing I had recently noticed; I always referred to my scales as 'they', 'them', or 'it'. They were always things, not part of my actual body. I can't let them be. But I hadn't looked at them in a while.

"Okay," I say shakily. "Let's just get this over with."

Hiccup laughes. "If that's your attitude about flying, it's going to be one heck of a flight."

"Excuse me?" I cross my arms and try to ignore the burst of desperate desire in my arms to be freed.

"In flight. If you don't want to be flying, it's not going to be a fun experience."

"Well, I'm not looking for a good experience. I'm only looking for getting you back in the air, so we can both go back to where we belong."

"Oh. Okay."

I felt a little bad as soon as I snapped at him, but that's what our goal was- is- right?

"Okay. So, gears. Let's see..."

* * *

><p><em>Day Four<em>

_Today, I flew with Hiccup. First, we attached a string to my hand so I could shift between gears. It works best if I turn them manually, but he can't always reach for it._

_It actually worked, for the most part. The part that scared me though was the actual flying. I always came off of his back dazed and a little light headed. I just played it off like I got air-sickness._

_But that wasnt it. It was holding back the buzz in the scales. They wanted the air, they wanted to be flying. It was really hard to ignore. We flew around the cove for a few (really fast) laps before it got too much and I couldn't concentrate._

_Higher, they urged. Just a little higher. I couldn't pay attention to the gears and we ended up getting tossed into the lake, but hey, it worked, did it not?_

* * *

><p><em>Day Five<em>

_Today, we tried my feet. I actually directed us out of the cove. I was determined to keep the Dragon in me contained, and it actually worked._

_That is, until Hiccup caught scent of something and dived downwards, too quick for me to react._

_I was sent rolling into a patch of grass._

_"Hiccup, what the heck was that about?" I had demanded, but he wasn't listening. He was too busy rolling around in the grass, himself. He was utterly happy and looked about as content as he could be. He almost looked...drugged. Like he had eaten some kind of weird herb that made his brain turn to mush._

_To be honest, he looked like a cat, with his ear flaps pressed tightly to his head in contentment, his wings flailing around like he was rolling in catnip for Dragons._

_I will never understand that useless Dragon._

_The grass did kind of smell good, though..._

_I tucked some in my pocket. Who knew when it could come in handy in the ring, right? That's the reason and I'm sticking with it._

* * *

><p>"So, my leg doesn't work, either," I grumble the next day. "How is this going to work?"<p>

"You tell me."

"Right. So, you carry me on your back like usual, and I cling to dear life praying we don't fall-"

"And you control...this...weird thingy," Hiccup tried to reach the metal contraption that ran from his tail to right underneath his arm. It was a way that if you turned the dial, it would shift gears, making it easier. But it was tricky and complicated, and I'm not sure Hiccup's ready for it. Heck, I'm not even sure if _I'm _ready for it.

"Okay. So. You're gonna have to trust me to fly us out of the cove, and then we'll attach this rope here to something so I can practice the different gears," I go over the plan.

"Sounds good," he flaps his wings and shakes out his body. He's anxious, I can feel it in the air. What I won't ever admit is that I am, too.

"Let's do this..."

* * *

><p><strong>So, what'd you think? I know, lots of filler things. I hope the journal entries helped with those small scenes from the actual movie. It passed too quickly, and I know that there should be more Viking moments, so I'll add those next. But next chapter will begin with them practicing, more Viking stuff, and who knows? We might even get to their first actual flight...<strong>

**See you next Thursday!**


	8. How To Become Airborn

It was a struggling process, but eventually, I get Hiccup and myself out of the cove. We both lay resting on the edge of the cove. Just getting out of there was a struggle. I'm really hoping actually flying won't be as hard.

"You okay?" I ask, getting up.

Hiccup flaps his wings and picks himself up. "Never better," he grins, "but I should be asking you that. You're arm's all good?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah," I glance down at said arm. Both of my arms are still wrapped tight in their bindings, but my right arm had healed a few days ago. It hadn't been in a splint for a while. Funny how Hiccup is concerned.

"So, where are we headed?" he asks, stretching and giving a yawn.

"I was thinking the cliffs. They always seem to have a nice, sturdy wind and they're pretty secluded."

"Perfect."

"Alright. Let's go, Toothless," I push past him and begin to lead the way. One more step and I could have been blasted by a plasma blast.

I freeze in my tracks and slowly turn around.

"Did you just throw a fire ball at me?" I ask dangerously.

"Pfft. Me? _What?_ Ha, no," Hiccup says cheekily. He's not very good at hiding 'smug'.

"Oh, you are so going to get it you useless half-reptile!"

"Catch me if you can you stupid half-human!" he winks and bounds off.

I snort in shock before racing after him. I reach a hand back for my axe, but I realize that it isn't there. Darn, I had forgotten it again. Is it strange that I don't feel in danger?

Yes. Yes it is. Unfortunately, I've come to consensus with these kinds of things already.

I race after Hiccup, eventually passing him as he doesn't really know where he's going. Every now and then, he'll try to flap his wings. He'll soar a few feet ahead but he can't stay in the air. Hopefully we'll change that.

Now, you're probably wondering why I don't just help Hiccup out and let him stay out of the cove. I offered this to him, but I didn't show my reluctance. He must have sensed it though. I mean, I did have his best interests in mind, honest. If he wanted to get out of the cove I would have helped him. But the reason I didn't say was that I was still worried. Friend or not, he knows my secret. That's a dangerous game, one I'm not willing to play let alone lose.

But, luckily for me, he pressed that the cove was safe and he trusted me.

And if you are wondering; yes. It stung. It stung a lot more than it should have.

Hiccup reaches the cliffs first with me dragging not too far behind. I still want to punch him, but not so much in anger anymore.

"Alright, where to start?" he leaps up onto a stump and balances himself in a position that should have been uncomfortable, yet he somehow seemed perfectly fine. As per usual. Sigh. Dragons.

"First, let's get you hooked up," I say, reaching in my pack to pull out a long rope.

* * *

><p>"No, left! Further left! Further down! Too much!"<p>

"Hiccup, for the love of Thor, _shut up!__"_

Hiccup is trying to give me advice, which seemed like he should know more than I would, as he's used to operating a tailfin, but such was not the case. I guess I know more about mechanics then he does, and the tail is, well, a mechanic.

"This isn't working!" he shouts, falling through the air and sending us both tumbling across the ground- only, he is jerked to a stop by the rope attached to his harness. I on the other hand go rolling across the ground like an ale barrel, the kind that Gobber downs every Snoggletog.

"Really?" I retort, my voice dripping with sarcasm. Normally, I'm blunt and straight to the point, not bothering with the elaboration it takes for sarcasm, but what can I say? Hiccup has been influencing me. So it is said that people pick up on each other's habits, and up until now, I hadn't really understood what that meant. Now, I understand it a little _too _well.

I groan as I heave myself off the ground.

"I know the positions. I just can't...it's too muscle memory. And while that's okay for fighting, it doesn't work too well for a prosthetic tailfin." I kick the stump just for good measure.

"Hey, be nice to the stump. It didn't do anything."

In that moment, an extra strong burst of wind comes at Hiccup. The stupid Dragon, he had his wings fanned out, and the wind caught them at just the right time.

Coincidence? I think not.

"Whoa!" he exclaims as he rockets back, once again being jerked to a halt.

I can't help it, I burst out laughing.

He grumbles, growling a little in frustration.

"Oh my gods, Hiccup..." I stifle my laughter just enough so I can ask if he's alright.

"Fine," he mutters. "But now I see your problem with this stump."

His hands start to glow a bright blue, but immediately jump in front of the stump, knowing what's about to happen.

"Wait stop!" I say.

He does.

"What?" he blinks.

"One, you can't just blast everything that irritates you, that's not reasonable, no matter how satisfying it might seem," -rich, coming from me- "and two, we need that stump! What else are we going to tie the harness to?"

He growls again and his ear flaps press flat against his head.

"Fine," he grumbles.

"Good," I say, turning away and digging through my pack. "Let's go again. I want to try for controlled flight."

"Alright," he mumbled, fingering the harness as best he could.

I climb on his back again (which is actually a lot less awkward than it sounds...okay, I lie. Yes, it is as awkward as it sounds) after I check the gears. I scribble something down on the cheat sheet I had started a few test flights ago and pat his arm.

"Alright, let's see..."

Hiccup spreads his wings and the wind easily picks us up.

So I did say that flying with Hiccup was really awkward, but once we were in the air, all of those thoughts vanish. There is nothing like flying. Just the wind that tears up my eyes, the adrenaline that makes my heart go racing, the dauntless feeling of leaving the ground. And we weren't even really in the air.

I reach back and flick the gears. It makes us both go face planting.

"Ow," Hiccup complains. He sits up with his wings open and resting on the ground, with his legs splayed in an uncomfortable 'w' shape. I, myself, land on my stomach with a glorious face full of dirt.

"O-kay," I say, once again heaving myself up. Now I really want Hiccup to explode that stump. "In the air, I'm guessing that's for dives?"

"Uh huh," Hiccup replies, flapping his wings and looking extra Dragon-like.

I jot that down on my cheat sheet.

"So, I have the pretty basic positions now. Do you want me to show you?"

He nods.

I click the gears down all the way. "That's what I just did. That will pretty much just let you fall in the air."

I re-click it up all the way. "This is for sharp ascents, all you have to do is flap with this one." At his confused look, I add, "This was the one where we almost snapped the rope because you went too high."

"Right," he immediately nods.

I show him the other positions for sharp turns, left, right, gliding, and so forth.

"So, that's all I have. Here, you try."

He leans down to study the tailfin for a moment. After a few minutes of getting familiar with the fin, I think he's ready.

"So, you have to rely on the rope for steadiness right now," I say. "Remember, for easy take offs, position-"

"Three."

"Four."

"Right."

He slowly unfurls his wings, and, using his Dragon speed, reaches back and flicks the gears up. He's a little shaky, but he gets up.

"Yeah!" I cheer. "Go Toothless!"

"Shut up, Stormy," he growls, but he looks pleased. A little strained, but pleased.

He can get gliding once he gets up there, but it's the ascent and descent that he seems to have trouble with. Which worries me, as he's a Dragon made for speed and agility.

"I'm just used to faster takeoffs," he insists, but I'm not too sure that's it.

"We'll do more tomorrow. Let your body get used to the new usages."

"Come on, I can do it! Let's go for a real test flight!" he suggests.

As much as I want to say no, a part of me really wants to get in the air, just to taste the winds, even if they aren't on my own wings- er, by myself. I won't be having _any _wings. Not now, not ever.

I promised myself that much.

"I don't know, Hiccup..."

"Come on, please? I'm ready, I know I am. I can do it! I know you can, too. I trust you," he pushes.

He trusts me. Oh gods, what do I do? Do I trust him? I mean, I feel safe enough to not need an axe around him now, but... Does that mean I trust him? What even is trust? Does Astrid Hofferson even know what trust is?

To be honest, I don't think I do. I don't think I'll ever. But if I did trust anyone, I'd trust Hiccup. Is that strange? Ironic at the very least, I suppose.

"Hiccup, I'm not sure you're ready. What if-"

"I won't let you fall, Stormy," he smiles.

I sigh, and we both know that I have decided.

"Five minutes."

"Yes!"

I really hope no Viking saw the brief display of blue plasma blasts shooting up from the cliffs. But even if they did, they wouldn't understand that it was a celebration.

* * *

><p>"Okay, Toothless, we're just gonna take this nice and slow," I say, patting his shoulder reassuringly. I don't know whether it's for me or him. Maybe both.<p>

"Fine by me," Hiccup grits his teeth, keeping his wings steady. Even though I'm the one shifting the positions, he's still getting used to being in the air again after those couple weeks. I figure it must be like not walking for a while. Like when Elder Gothi holds a fevered Viking through the winter.

I check the tailfin, making sure it's nice and tight. The cheat sheet is secured with a clip-of-sorts on Hiccup's harness.

"So far so good," I mumble to myself. Then, a little louder, "You ready?"

"I was born to do this!" Hiccup replies dryly.

"Oh shut up."

His reply is cut short when I click the fin down, and we are sent plunging slowly but faster than I might desire to the ocean below.

I make sure everything is fine before I let myself enjoy it. We're not out of the woods yet. Hiccup keeps looking around, like he's making sure he's alright, too. That really doesn't comfort me, but, he's the expert, I guess, right?

I eventually pull us up and we go gliding right below a flock of sea gulls.

"Yes, it worked," I announce triumphantly. I'm feeling very proud of myself-

"Astrid!"

"Whoa!"

We crash into a rock pillar, pretty heavily. Luckily, Hiccup's suffered worse and the blow hardly phases him. He's not too happy about it, though.

"Sorry!" I shout.

Right on time, Hiccup crashes into a second rock pillar.

"My bad," I cringe.

"You could say that again." Hiccup tosses his head and I am promptly slapped in the face with one of his ear flaps. It doesn't really hurt but it's enough to make a point.

I roll my eyes.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm on it. Position four."

"Three."

"Right."

I click the fin in place, and Hiccup immediately begins to sail upwards, flapping his wings as fast as he can go. We both cry out with shouts of delights.

"Oh, I missed this!" Hiccup exclaims, closing his eyes in happiness. My stomach is leaping into my throat, but in a good kind of way...if that's even possible. Which it is, I assure you, I'm experiencing it now.

He laughs, and I can't help but grin to myself as well. He lets out a loud roar and I can't bring myself to worry about whether or not anyone will hear.

"The wind in my-"

"Cheat sheet!" I cry. Due to the wind, the cheat sheet had loosened, and the clip had released its tight hold. "Stop!" I command.

Hiccup doesn't quite understand, but he obeys, quite quickly- a little too quickly.

"No!" I shout, reaching for the small sheet. In my grasp, I don't think about the air, I don't think about the height, I don't think about the Dragon who can't fly without me. I don't even think about holding on.

"_ASTRID!_"

I hear my name called, but I don't process much after that. All I can think is 'I'm falling, I'm falling.'

Then, the panic sets in, and I start screaming.

"Oh, great Odin's ghost, this is it!" I shout between screams.

"Astrid! You gotta, kind of...angle yourself!" Hiccup tries to call.

I scream again, desperately clawing for something- _anything, _but, as I'm literally in the air, there is nothing to grab.

Something whacks into my arm, and the bone that was healed but fragile gives out a scream of its own.

"Oh, great Alphas, I'm so sorry!" I hear Hiccup cry.

I don't know how long we fall. All I know is that I fall faster than hiccup does, as I slid and he floated for a moment.

"_Hiccup!_" I shriek.

I hear a large _swooshing _sound and suddenly, I'm being caught- bridal style. It would have been much more humiliating had I not been about to fall to my death.

I don't know how Hiccup managed to fall below me enough to catch me through the air, but he does. He moves me to his back where I cling around his neck.

"Astrid, are you alright?" he asks.

"We're kind of falling here!" I retort.

"I know, but, I mean...your hand."

"I'm fine!" I press.

"But you can't operate the tailfin."

I stay silent. Maybe because I don't have the answer we both want, or maybe just because I can glimpse the ground now- and it's coming fast. I'll just blame it on the ground.

"Hiccup!" I shout again.

His green eyes widen and he snaps his wings out. The force must feel like they're about to be ripped off, but he only narrows his eyes in concentration.

I'm not quite sure what would have happened had we not flown straight into a misty collection of rock pillars. They were jagged, we were going too fast, I couldn't shift gears, and Hiccup could barely control them himself. It wasn't such a good match.

But that's exactly what happens.

I scream again, but Hiccup tips downwards.

"Hold on," he warns, right before he tucks his wings in and plunges into the maze.

I can't really put into words what happens next. So, for now, I'll just say, Hiccup _flew _through those rocks. And it was pretty damn amazing.

"You did it!" I exclaimed, still a little shaken by the fact that I had almost hurtled to my death.

Hiccup smiles a little, but it mainly looks like a grimace.

Something's wrong, I think.

"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" I ask. I feel terrible. In all of my panic, I didn't even think about whether or not _Hiccup _was okay. My arm was throbbing but I could move my fingers, if only a little. But who knows what could have happened to Hiccup.

"Fine," he gruffly replies. He refuses to look back at me, which makes me all the more concerned. Something's really wrong, and we need to land, now. The victory over Hiccup being able to fly will have to wait.

"You're not fine. Land down there. Now." I point to a clearing on a rocky shore, a nice open place. It's on an island that the Berkians won't be able to see.

Once we land, I climb down and brush my skirt off subconsciously.

I fold my arms over my chest and lean to one side.

"Spill," I demand.

"I'm fine," he says, but he still won't look at me.

"Well something's up," I say.

"It's...nothing..."

"Dragons aren't very good at lying," I note. Hiccup sighs and sits down, looking down at his clawed fingers.

"So..." I sit down next to him.

"It's just...I'm so sorry, Astrid," he blurts out and looks away.

Oh...

_Oh_.

Now I feel like a stupid half-reptile.

"Hiccup, that wasn't your fault," I say, but he doesn't look convinced. Should have known it would have taken more than that.

I sigh myself.

I don't know what to do in these situations. All I know how to do is aim, throw, and whack things with my axe. Fighting is the Viking way. More to so applied to me, we aren't very touchy-feely. Feelings aren't something we do. We knock over a cart of weapons? We apologize. We hit someone in the face, we apologize. But if we almost get someone killed, so what. It's something we risk every day.

Of course, I've never even had anyone to be remotely soft for. It's always been Gronkle-tough Astrid, or fearless Astrid. Never weak enough for feelings.

So I do the only thing I know how to do; I punch him in the face.

Hard.

"W-what was that for?" Hiccup cries, after sitting back up from being knocked flat on his back.

"_That's_ for letting me fall," I state. Hiccup takes this as 'I'm angry with you. How dare you' and looks away in shame.

A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth.

Now for the part I don't know anything about.

I grasp Hiccup's arm and pull him into a hug. It's short and brief and doesn't feel very warm at all, but it's a sort of affection that I am unfamiliar with. I think Hiccup senses this, as he stiffens at first and doesn't have time to do anything else as I pull away after two seconds.

We sit in silence for a moment or two. I watch him, waiting for some sign showing that he gets that I've already forgiven him, that I never blamed him in the first place.

Eventually, he glances up, giving me a questioning look.

I don't look at him when I say, "That's for everything else."

It finally clicks with him, he realizes that I'm thanking him for catching me. He looks away again, but he's not frowning anymore.

"Sorry that, you know, I let you fall," he apologizes sincerely.

"It's okay. Sorry for...you know...causing that in the first place."

He grins. "Thanks for flying with me."

"Thanks for catching me."

We don't say anything else, but that's okay, because we don't need to.

* * *

><p><strong>Sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry! Last Thursday, the excuse is actually not that I posted that new PJO story, I just didn't have a chapter ready, I had homework, the computer was being hogged, and I haven't had any time to make up for it. I still have a lot of homework, and am in fact putting some off to write this chapter...but enough about my personal struggles. I hope this was a really overdramatic and amazing substitute for last week's failed update!<strong>

**I would like to thank and welcome all of the new followers, and I will be catching up on replying to reviews right after I post this. Please let me know what you think, how I'm doing, questions, what I should do (no guarantees I'll listen though...), some random stuff, whatever. See you all next time! **


	9. How To Be Surprised

Hiccup isn't at all what I thought Dragons were. I've been trained to fight them, to kill them, to hate them with my every being. How can this be real at all? It just doesn't make sense. I voice these opinions to the Night Fury himself, and he thinks about it.

"I don't know. I've never really been taught to hate Vikings, just to pity them," he responds.

"Pity?" I question, a little offended. Why would Dragons pity us?

"Because," Hiccup takes a pause to tear into another fish. "For one, you all are weaker, you're fueled by hate, you can't fly, you depend on each other for protection-"

"We can protect ourselves just fine!" I defend. So we are weaker than Dragons, that's a known fact and though it injures my pride, it's true. We are fueled by hate, but that's because so many have died from the Dragons, and even more have Bonded, turning into beasts who turn on their own village-mates.

"Never said you couldn't, but you do have to work together towards a goal."

"Is that so bad?" Generally, I'm more of a solo Viking, but I do work well with others- only if I'm on command, of course.

"No-" another bite/gulp "-but you don't like to handle things on your own, from what I've seen. You, of course, are the exception, but what's new."

"I am not afraid to punch you in the face and make you _really _toothless," I growl. I think I've had enough of a Dragon's point of view.

"Hey, don't shoot the Terror- ah, speaking of which..."

If it's possible, Hiccup lowers to the ground, his eyes dilating into slits and narrowing, his lip curling back just the slightest bit.

"What, you afraid of Terrors?" I joke, squinting to see a flock of small winged creatures beating their wings like mad, heading straight for us.

"Terrors are fine, it's the babies that aren't," he growls, protectively wrapping a wing around his pile of fish.

"What's so wrong with babies?" I ask.

"They don't listen to _anyone._"

I laugh.

Sure enough, the Terrors that flop to the ground look no older than six or seven at the oldest. The youngest being maybe four.

There are three in this flock. One has green wings with red horns protruding from its- ahem, his, scraggly head of black hair, this one seems to be about five in Viking years, I would guess. I don't really know how Dragons age, or if it's any different. The second I see is a girl, six or seven I would guess. She has blonde hair a bit like mine with red wings and horns. Her hair's a mess, though, stringy, unkept, and windswept, much like Hiccup's. The third is the youngest looking, the possible four-year-old. He is also green with red horns, though with more of a blueish tint. He looks like he could be a sibling (hatchling?) to the older female with stringy blonde hair. They all have yellow eyes.

I wonder why Hiccup's eyes are green. Most Dragons have yellow eyes. I mean, my Uncle Finn got glowing eyes, but that was because he Bonded with a Flightmare. Hiccup's nothing like anything I've ever known before. He's deadly yet sane, calm yet tempting, dangerous yet protective. I'm not sure whether I should laugh or run for my life. I guess I've already chosen, though.

The oldest male squawks and pulls a fish from under Hiccup's wing. He growls at it but gulps another one down himself.

The older girl tries to steal it but he waves her hands and a jet of flames go roaring out, aimed right at the girl. The Terror backs off respectively.

Hiccup then notices a small fish slowly sliding away. He narrows his eyes but keeps watching it.

Soon enough, the young boy drags a fish about the size of his head away, eying Hiccup. Quick as a flash, Hiccup snatches the fish and in a five-second game of tug of war, Hiccup tosses the fish and in the air and it lands back on his pile.

"Ha!" he snorts. "Take that!"

The little boy squawks, but he doesn't say anything. I almost expect him to.

He only growls and leans down on all fours. He then squats and starts to aim at Hiccup, but with the flick of one finger, Hiccup sets the lighted gas on fire and the Terror is sent spiraling away in a miniature explosion.

"Hiccup," I scold.

"What?" he asks innocently.

I sigh and roll my eyes, watching as the little boy gets up, heavily dazed. I could swear that his pupils were rolling.

A small tug on my skirt makes me jump a mile.

The female Terror, the one with the blueish green wings, is crouched right next to me. I hadn't even noticed her come up.

"Stealthy little one, aren't you?" I say when I regain my composure.

She gives a small cackle, looking only slightly pathetic.

"Don't do it," Hiccup warns.

"I wasn't going to!" I snap, not needing advice from a Dragon.

She tips forward just slightly, making her eyes look bigger.

"No," I say firmly. "Shoo."

She doesn't budge. Instead, she creeps closer.

I make a distressed sound in the back of my throat. "Oh, fine!" I grumble, tossing her a fish and ignoring the glare Hiccup sends me. "Don't eat it all at once."

She lunges for it and begins to tear into it. In a few seconds, there is nothing but torn meat left. Perfectly good meat, I might add, but she licks her lips and look content.

To my surprise, she then grabs the fish with her teeth and drags it over to the other blonde-haired Terror, the one who had been blown back.

The Terror snaps his head and he leans his head to rub against the older Terror's shoulder before leaning down to gobble down the torn meat that is ripped just enough for him to eat it.

"Huh...you guys...take care of each other," I think aloud.

"Of course," Hiccup states. "I'd bet that's her hatchmate, and their parents have already had another batch of eggs."

I furrow my brow, thinking about it. I suppose it'd be nice to have someone to always look out for me. Comforting, like I know they'd have my back.

After a while, the three Terrors leave, and Hiccup stomps out the fire.

"You ready?" he asks.

"Huh? Oh, yeah, let's go. Do you want to try flying on your own?"

He shrugs. "Sure."

"Alright. Come on, up you go."

It would be nice to say that Hiccup took off like a professional and swooped and dived to his heart's content, but, unfortunately, that's not what happens. I cringe as he gets ten feet in the air, then promptly crashes back down, not lightly, I might add.

"What was that?" I demand.

"I-I don't know," he admits. "The gears just feel...wrong. Like I can't get them anymore."

"But you had it!" I exclaim.

"I know!" he says, frustrated. He gets up and walks away. I don't know if he notices, but a few blue sparks shoot out of his fingertips and ignite a small shrub. I notice.

"It's- it's okay. We'll figure it out, alright? Everything will work out. You'll be able to fly again."

"Yeah, sure," he responds. He runs a hand through his dark brown hair, pushing it out of his eyes. I sigh.

"Come on, we'll work more tomorrow."

Without another word, he gets up. I climb onto his back (it's only awkward if you make it awkward, right?) and shuffle with the gears a bit before I nod my head. Hiccup launches us into the air and I catch us with the prosthetic.

We fly home for a few minutes in silence, and not the comforting kind. The kind where nobody knows what to say and the suspense kills each of them. Well, I'm not really sure what Hiccup thought about it all but I sure felt weird.

Just as I open my mouth, I tense.

"Astrid?" Hiccup asks, feeling the difference.

"Shut up," I warn him, trying to listen.

"What is it?"

"I said shut _up_!" I hiss, cocking my head.

Something in me stirs. Something strong.

_Come this way, _it calls. For some reason, I feel compelled to obey it. More than compelled, I _want_ to obey that voice.

I click the gears and Hiccup shouts out as we bank right.

"Astrid, what are you doing?" Hiccup tries to flap against me but the tail's controlling where he's going and if he doesn't flap we'll fall.

"Quiet," I say, listening.

_This way..._

I feel in a daze as I direct Hiccup through the air, flapping past boulders and soaring through rock obelisks. I follow the voice calling me. It's so strong.

_Closer, closer. You're almost there._

"Astrid, wait, stop!" Hiccup shouts, folding in his wings.

"Hiccup, _fly!_" I shout back, and, startled, he obeys.

"Astrid, please, turn us around, the Dragon in you is being controlled-"

"There is no Dragon in me!" I shout.

"Yes there is! If there wasn't, you wouldn't be able to hear _her._"

"Who? Never mind, it doesn't matter. We have to go in there."

"In where?"

Actually, I don't really know where 'there' is, but once we clear the fog to reveal a mountain, I am suddenly certain.

"In there," I say firmly.

Hiccup's eyes widen.

"Astrid, no, don't-"

"Shut up," I say, making him move.

He sighs and looks worried, but I don't think about it.

There's a small entrance where other Dragons are entering as well, and I fly us in as well.

Inside, it's dark with a red hue and very, very hot. Too many Dragons in one small space.

We land on a ledge and I look around.

"Whoa," I say in amazement, turning around.

_Show me your arms, Dragon._

I don't question the voice. I have found out that it's female, and she sounds superior, like she knows what she's talking about. I should listen to her... So I do.

My arm wrappings fall to the ground and my scales scream with relief at being released from their cloth bindings.

I breathe out and sigh, content feeling.

"Astrid, please, let's go," Hiccup says, but I brush him off.

"In a minute," I breathe, still looking around.

All the Dragons around me stare at me, but not threateningly. Only like I'm someone new. I don't even skip a beat.

"Astrid, please-"

"Oh, no, Astrid, it is, please, stay," a new voice surrounds the cavern, echoing off the walls. It's the voice, in real form.

Hiccup glowers. I don't see the fear he masks behind his slitted eyes. Why would i? What does he have to fear?

A Dragon swoops down in front of me. She's the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Her hair is brown and falls to her waist, wild and windswept. Her features are pointed, giving her an elegant grace. Her wings are attached to her arms, but they're ginormous, even bigger than Hiccup's, no, much larger than Hiccup's. They are an off-white shade tinged with red. She has flaps much like Hiccup's sprouting from her head, only the color of her wings and not black. Her tail curves behind her, long and reminding me of Hiccup's, only different.

As she walks, she spreads her wings. They emerge from her back and stretch out.

Wait...

I realize that this Dragon has four wings.

Her yellow eyes are completely slitted, ten times thinner than the thinnest I've ever seen Hiccup's.

She smiles, and her deadly fangs flash in the dim red light. It should send shivers down my back. It doesn't.

"Welcome, my new Hatchling," she says, spreading her arms/wings out.

Hiccup growls and the Dragon's eyes swivel to meet Hiccup's. I turn. Hiccup is casually leaned against the rock with his wings folded upwards, his arms crossed and his ear flaps pressed flat against his heads. If it weren't for the ear flaps, he'd have looked completely relaxed and at ease. But why is he tense? What does he have to fear?

"Hiccup," her wide, cold smile grows wider, and colder.

Hiccup growls. "Leave the girl alone."

"Oh, but my Dragon, she's Bonding. She belongs to me now."

"She belongs to no one," he leans forward to spit it out.

Why is Hiccup being so hostile? I want to protect the Dragon lady.

"Hiccup, enough," I snap.

Hiccup look sat me, but he doesn't look angry, he only looks concerned.

I fold my arms and glare at him.

"Yes, Hiccup, enough. But welcome home."

"This isn't my home."

"Oh, but it should be. It will be." That sounds an awful lot like a threat, but why would she threaten? Well, she wouldn't. Obviously. She's not here to threaten me. ANd if she did, it would be for the best.

"_This_ will _never _be my home, _you _will never be my _queen,_ and I am only _here_ because of _her_. Let her go. She's not ready."

"On the contrary, she is perfect," the Dragon lady gasps. "You must come home, my Night Fury. You belong here. With us."

"I belong nowhere. Least of all here, _mother,_" Hiccup spits.

For a moment, my mind clears when I hear this. This is Hiccup's _mother_?

_What have I gotten us in to? _I wonder before the Dragon lady turns back to me and I loose myself in her yellow, slitted eyes and her wide, cold smile.

* * *

><p><strong>Oh my gosh! What just happened? Well, you'll have to keep reading to find out! If, you know, I ever update for you guys to find out... really sorry, I didn't have a chapter ready and someone else needed the computer more than I did. This chapter isn't too long because I have to get ready for a concert I learned of as of yesterday but hopefully what happens makes up for it?<br>**

**Also sorry, but Thursdays aren't going to work for update days anymore. Would you all be okay if I moved it to Wednesday?**

**And yes, this chapter is confusing, but please don't hate me because I made Hiccup's mom evil! All will be explained, I promise!**

**Oh, and any of my readers who are following my PJO NicoxWill story, I think I might start it sometime soon. Just a head's up.**

**Until next time (hopefully next Wednesday?), my readers!**


	10. How To (Not) Notice An Invisible Dragon

_What in Valhalla's name is going on?_

That's what I'm thinking the entire time. I don't know what's going on. But I know that I want to be here. Something about the Dragon lady makes me feel safe. Safe as in, protected. I want to be here. I am safe here.

Hiccup is safe here.

So why is he being so tense?

"Hiccup, relax," I tell him.

"I am not going to relax. We need to leave now and _she's _clouding your judgement."

"Why would she do that?" I ask. I notice that I don't ask 'how,' but I don't care. She wouldn't hurt me.

Hiccup's eyes narrow, and not in the squinting way. "She's a Queen now. It's part of her essence."

"Wait... You mean to tell me your mom's a Dragon Queen?" I ask in the wrong tone, but I don't necessarily know that it's the wrong tone.

Hiccup just stares at me. Then, in one flash of black, he grabs me by my shoulders and stares deep into my eyes. For the first time, I meet his Dragon gaze full on and don't feel afraid.

"Astrid," he starts, "we need to leave. If we don't, bad things are going to happen-"

"The only bad thing that would happen if we left is that we would leave. Why would I want to leave?"

"She's right, Hiccup," the Dragon lady cut in. "Why would she want to leave when she's got everything she needs right here? Why would she want to leave and go back to hiding her true self among Vikings when she could be a _Dragon_?"

A tiny part of me flares up at that statement. But as soon as it ignites, it diminishes, leaving me to wonder if it even happened at all.

"Right," I nod shakily.

"_Astrid,_" Hiccup pleads. "Please. You're a _Viking, _you _hate _Dragons! As much as that pains me to say it, you do! This is not you! Snap out of it!"

"Hiccup," I say slowly. For a moment, he looks hopeful. "You don't know me. Leave me alone. If you want to leave so badly, then go."

I don't remember that he can't, even if he wants to.

He backs down and his ear flaps hang down in defeat.

"So, Astrid, please come with me," the Dragon Queen says.

I nod and blindly follow, my attention completely on her.

"As you know, our Ancestors died out long ago," she begins, her tail dragging behind her. "But one cannot kill of such a noble breed. Dragons returned, and not in the way those pesky Vikings might expect."

"Of course," I agree. Everyone knows this, though. Even the Vikings.

"You probably believe that this is common knowledge," she says, flashing a smile.

I nod again.

"What you don't know," she almost whispers, and I have to strain to hear her. "Is that they have a secret."

She smiles, a deadly flash of her pointed teeth, and takes off to the top of the mountain. Her large wing beats send wave after wave of wind that fans my face.

I look over to Hiccup. "You have to take me up there."

"Do I have a choice?" he sighs, and I jump on his back. In an instant, we're flying up behind the Dragon Queen.

As we land, I sort of let go of the gears a little too early and we both go tumbling down on the rock. I cut myself a little on my shoulder but I ignore it.

"Not quite what I was hoping for, but, well, I suppose he needed to get up here somehow," the Dragon Lady frowns, and I can't help but feel a little guilty. I want to please her, even if I'm not too sure how.

"You were telling a story?" I ask.

"Oh yes!" her eyes brighten up, but the action looks more threatening, especially because her pupils were mere slits, more of a line cutting her eyes in half than a pupil in general. "The secret."

I glance down at my arms. It looks like they're spreading... But...why would that be a bad thing, again? Why am I panicking, this is good, right?

"Dragons came back. Their spirits Bonded with those of Viking lineage."

I know this. We all know this. It's why the Vikings fear Dragons. Why do they fear Dragons, again?

_We, not they. I'm a Viking. But...why?_

My scales are beginning to burn. But not in a painful way. More in an aching, needing way. I close my eyes and shudder.

"Those Bondings are why Dragons still exist, today. The Vikings fear it. They lose themselves to the Dragons. Or so they think. It is only because the Dragon inside is so powerful that they can no longer control it. It contaminates them, taints their minds. But that's what makes them Dragons. They are such beautiful beasts. So powerful, yet so scared. Imagine, a human with the ability to harness the winds," she spreads her wings and a draft lifts her a few feet in the air, "and to summon fire with the single thought of the mind." she opens her palms towards the ceiling, and a miniature bonfire springs to life. The fire reflects in her yellow eyes.

"There is a Dragon inside you, Astrid," she says. Her name sounds foreign on her tongue, but it shouldn't. "There is a Dragon inside us all. What they don't know is that _all _the Dragons came back. It is the Viking's curse, why they will never be able to rid themselves of the Dragons."

"_Enough, _mother," Hiccup steps in. His features are glaring but his eyes are wild and frightened.

"Hush, Hiccup. She needs to hear this."

My head is spinning, but not from what she told me. There's something...inside me, something that is screaming and thrashing to get out. It will do anything, anything at all. It's talking to me, whispering of the amazing things we'll be able to do together, if only I let it go.

_Let me out. I will give you power, power you can only begin to imagine. You will be able to fly. You will be able to control fire, you will be able to destroy. Nothing will stand in your way._

"Yes, Astrid," the Dragon lady smiles, approvingly. The aching need turns to pain, and I scream.

"Astrid!" Hiccup calls, alarmed.

Is this what Bonding truly is? Is this what it is to lose yourself? Because, if it s, I will give it all away willingly. The pain is too much now. It's not just the pain. If it was, I am a Viking and I can deal with pain. But the aching, the bone-crushing, mind-bending _need _is too irresistible. I can't stand it.

"Oh, gods, _make it stop!_" I shriek. I cower down and cover my ears, but it does nothing to block the whispering pleas of release.

I break out into a sweat.

"Do not fear it, my little Dragon. Let it come."

With that, a wave of relief washes over me. This is what's supposed to happen. It's not unusual. I'm not in danger because she will protect me.

"Astrid!" Hiccup calls, but it sounds muffled. I look up at him.

He opens his mouth, like he wants to call to me to stop. Like he wants to make it stop. He wants to do something, to help me. But I don't need his help.

Wow, is the world spinning or is it just me?

"Remember who you are!"

I don't know if it's Hiccup or my inner conscious, maybe both. Maybe Hiccup _is _my inner conscious. Either way, I'm too far gone. I hear a large _ripping _sound and a light so bright occurs that I have to close my eyes.

All of a sudden, the voices stop. The pain stops, the aching stops, the wind stops, the spinning stops, everything just _stops. _It's eerily quiet, and I'm almost afraid.

_But Astrid Hofferson does not feel afraid, _something reminds me. Who is Astrid Hofferson?

* * *

><p><em>Something is different. Not wrong. Almost...right.<em>

_I shiver. Definitely right. But what has changed?_

_I open my eyes. I'm in a cave. Why am I in a cave? No, not a cave...a volcano. Is it dangerous?_

_I taste the air, and find that it reeks of 'danger'._

_Something itches in my arms, and I feel like I want to leave. Now._

_A hand comes to rest gently on my shoulder. Sharp claws dig into my skin, but they don't penetrate. I feel like they should._

_'Beautiful,' the soft voice of a female croons, loud and clear through the shifting world. Everything but her voice is muted, muffled, even the sight of everything._

_I look up into the eyes of a Dragon._

_Dragon? Dragons are bad!_

_Wait, no they aren't..._

_Are they, or aren't they?_

_One side of my mind wants to push her away and get out of here, and the other wants to stay._

_The Dragon frowns. 'Interesting...' she murmurs._

_I suck in a breath and release it. My head hurts._

_'Stand, my little one,' she commands. I do._

_'Come with me.'_

_"...Astrid?" a small voice asks. It is a word. Something that is not familiar to me. In a tongue I do not understand.  
><em>

_I zip my head around to meet the eyes of yet another Dragon. Why is he speaking a different language?  
><em>

_Night Fury, my mind supplies. I can't tell whether it's a good or bad or even a thing at all._

_The Night Fury looks...frightened. But why?_

_Why should I care, is my next question. I shouldn't and I don't, I decide, so I growl at him and turn back to the other Dragon._

_'Come,' she beckons and I walk. Everything feels heavy, but not off. Actually, everything feels quite right._

_I feel like I want to blow something up._

_Is that normal?_

_'Come,' she repeats, and I take a few more shuffled steps towards her._

_I stand next to her. She has led me to the very edge of the rock that we are standing on. I peer down. It's a long way to fall. The height doesn't scare me._

_'Look at me, please.'_

_I do. I can't seem to register anything. It's all one big mess that I take in as one, sorting it out while scattering it at the same time._

_She smiles, pleased at what she sees. 'Good.'_

_Then, she pushes me._

_I scream, but it comes out as a cackled cry, one of a different language. But no, that's my language._

_I am falling, falling, falling._

_This feeling isn't unfamiliar. I have...fallen before? But, how does that make sense? I should be doing something, but my mind can't wrap around what. Nothing is wrong, but I don't know what's right. Something is, and something isn't. If only I could figure out what each was, and what those something's were in the first place._

_I am falling, falling, falling._

_What is going on? I am frightened. My mind feels young, undeveloped. I am a Viking, I think suddenly. My entire being curls itself and hisses at the term. So, no, not a Viking. That couldn't be right. But...what am I? And what is going on?_

_I am falling, falling, falling._

_Instinct takes over me as I get closer and closer to the bottom. My senses sharpen, and I position myself so I am no longer tumbling through the air. I spread my arms and they snap out, slowing and eventually stopping my fall. And suddenly...  
><em>

_I am flying, flying, flying._

_I let out a laugh and swoop back upwards towards the Dragon Queen._

_Ah, yes, that's what she is. The Dragon Queen. No, _my _Dragon Queen. Because that's what I am. A Dragon._

_That is what's right.  
><em>

_The look that the Night Fury had given me, that is what's wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong._

_'Very good,' my Queen tells me approvingly. I bristle at the thought._

_I want to say something back. I realize that I don't know how._

_"Astrid," the Night Fury says again._

_'What is Astrid?' I snarl in frustration. The word sounds foreign on my tongue and tastes vile in my mouth._

_The Night Fury looks even more shocked. I am, too. That's what I meant to say. But that's not _how _I meant to say it. But...what other way is there?_

_The Night Fury looks away again. I turn back to my Queen._

_'Beautiful,' she says, a deep-throated purr._

_"Astrid," the Night Fury speaks. I look at him and he looks determined. "Remember who you are."_

_I do not know what he has just said, but I do remember those words. They have meaning...an important meaning. One I cannot remember._

Remember who you are...

_Suddenly, the Night Fury throws himself at my Queen and fires plasma blasts at her. He is harming her!_

_I quickly throw myself in between the two, lowering myself to the ground and growling with my hands outstretched, daring him to come any closer. My fire is hot, hotter than his. I don't know how I know this, and I don't know how he knows this, but we both do and he backs off.  
><em>

_But the fire is still burning in his green eyes._

_He leaps at me and I think of fire. I aim it at him._

_At the very last second, he dodges it and my fire hits the wall behind him, crumbling it to dust and rubble. I stare at the spot. Something shiny is revealed beneath the rock I had just blown away._

_'Come, we have things to do. You may play later.' my Queen says, taking off._

_"Come on, Stormy. This isn't you. You're strong. Fight it. Fight." the Night Fury says, pleads. "Look for yourself."  
><em>

_I don't know why I do. I shouldn't trust this Night Fury speaking in a foreign tongue. I shouldn't be able to understand what he's saying without understanding what he's speaking. Nonetheless, I stumble over to the wall.  
><em>

_The reflection is fuzzy, but my sharpened sight can make it out. Sharpened? Yes, sharpened. My vision didn't used to be this good. But, what was it before? What even is before?_

_Everything has changed. I'm not me, but then I am me._

_My wings jut out from my arms, my tail is spiked and curled around my feet, and long horns protrude from my blonde hair._

_My eyes are the thing I really notice._

_The eyes that stare back at me have the slitted pupil that cuts my eyes in half, not so severe as the Queen's, but still slitted._

The_ Queen, not _my_ Queen._

_The eyes that stare back at me are not yellow. I have been wrong this the whole time about Dragon eyes. Not yellow, never yellow. They have always been gold._

_But they aren't my eyes._

_Just like these aren't my wings, aren't my horns, aren't my claws, aren't my scales. This isn't my tail, this isn't my body. And these aren't my eyes.  
><em>

_My eyes are blue. Like the scales on my wings. The only Dragon I know that is blue is a..._

_Oh my gods. Oh my gods, oh my gods, oh my gods._

_Yes, they are my gods. They are my gods because I am not a Dragon, I am a Viking.  
><em>

_I remember it all now.  
><em>

_I scream._

_I scream because I am too late, I scream because these aren't my eyes, I scream because I am not me, I scream because I am scared- no, terrified, but most of all, I scream because I have Bonded with a Deadly Nadder._

_I scream, and it sounds human._

* * *

><p>"Astrid!" Hiccup shouts. Astrid. I understand. That's my name. That's what the word means.<p>

Somehow, I ended up on the ground. I want to pull myself in and curl up in a ball. This isn't me, though. I am strong, no matter what happens. Go down fighting, I once promised. I don't like to break promises.

"H-Hiccup," I say. It's warm in the volcano, as expected, but I can't be colder.

"What is this?" the Dragon Queen dives back to the ledge. She looks angry. Not a good sign.

"Mom, leave her alone," Hiccup steps in front of me while I stumble to my feet. I have a headache and the world won't stop spinning. Again.

"Hiccup. Move."

She's alarmingly calm, and I know that we should be afraid.

She takes one look at me. I can't see myself, but I know that something is wrong by the way she recoils in disgust.

"How dare you!" she turns to Hiccup.

"Uh, Hiccup?" I say.

"Kind of not the time, but what?"

"We need to go."

"You don't say-"

He's cut off by the shriek of the Dragon Queen. It's a Dragon shriek, one that sends my hands to my ears. Or, would have, if my wings didn't get in the way. Stupid unwanted wings.

"Come on, Astrid, time to go," Hiccup quickly says.

I nod and he helps me onto his back. I cling to him for dear life because it's all that I can do.

"But, Hiccup, the gears-"

"Don't worry. just hold on."

"You dare leave me?" the Dragon Queen cried. "You dare defy your Queen? You are a weak Dragon! You will never amount to anything! You will forever be trapped in between worlds, never wanted anywhere! You have cursed yourself!

Her shouts don't have effect on me. They only make me angrier, actually. Any trace of wanting to protect this crazy Dragon is long gone.

I unfurl my tail and whip it back, then forward, sending a rainfall of spikes down at her. I suppose this does have a few perks... I still prefer my battle axe though and would trade it all away in a heartbeat.

Her eyes widen but she dodges each one with ease. I'm not too used to that, anyways.

"That's for luring me here," I snarl.

She snarls back, her lip curling in an ugly way.

While she is distracted with, well, hating me, I let go with one hand, pull back, think of the biggest mass of fire I can, and _push._

This time, she isn't so lucky. That, or I am getting better at my speed. I don't see her through the fire and smoke. I know she's still alive. This won't be the last of her, I'm afraid.

"That's for everything else!" I shout.

"Going now, hold on!" Hiccup warns and I turn my focus back to holding on.

The Queen doesn't follow us out, and I'm not sure whether I should be grateful or worried.

* * *

><p>"That's how it works. It's like a bee hive. We're the workers and that's our Queen."<p>

Since flying back, Hiccup hasn't shut up about anything. I wonder if he's ignoring the fact that I haven't said a word. I still can't shake the fact that my Dragon is a... I can't even say it. I shiver and lean into Hiccup. Something that I hate doing and would not normally do, mind you, but I can't help it.

"Hiccup?" I whisper.

"Yeah?"

"Please get me down."

I hate how small my voice sounds. I hate it. But I can't get those golden eyes out of my mind. Especially because they didn't scare me. Oh, sure, the Nadder thing scared the living daylights out of me, enough to make me snap out of the Queen's control and my state of confusion, I guess. But the eyes...

They weren't mine, but they didn't scare me.

We reach the cove, and Hiccup stays still while I crawl down.

Hiccup arranges some sticks and blasts a fire for us. I huddle by it and Hiccup comes to sit next to me.

I should ask him to explain, I should ask him if he knew the whole time, I should ask him everything. But I don't.

"So... You...Bonded?" he asks.

"Uh huh," I say.

"Are you...okay?"

"No."

I stare into the fire. It burns my eyes but so would looking into his eyes. This is probably safest, anyways.

"I'm sorry. You were right, I never should have listened to that voice," I whisper.

"It's not your fault," he immediately denies. "She's a Queen. That's how things work."

"But I should have known better!" I cry, turning to him. "You warned me and I didn't listen. I should have been able to stop the Bonding! I've been holding it back for this long only for me to lose it! Don't you understand? I can't go back now. I can't be a Viking. And, according to the Queen, I'm a curse and am a weak Dragon."

"Uh, Astrid?"

"What?" I demand.

"Look," he sighs, pointing to the fire.

I turn my glare to it, and the small campfire has exploded into a raging bonfire. I blink in surprise, my anger diminishing. With it, so does the fire.

"What the..."

"Now would a weak Dragon be able to control a fire five feet away from her without the use of hands?" Hiccup smiles softly.

I shouldn't care that she called me a weak Dragon. What does that even mean, anyways? I don't even know. But it hurt. Even if there was a 'Dragon' at the end, someone had still called me weak. I am not weak, I have sworn to never be weak.

But I still care.

"So...how did you do it?"

"Do what?"

"You stopped the Bonding. How did you do it?"

"Stopped the-" I snort. "Hiccup, I didn't stop anything! Don't you see?"

I shove my arms out and my wings snap out. My eyes are flaring and I can feel them dilate in frustration.

"Actually, you did," he lowers my arms, which are right in front of his face. "All the Dragons I've seen lose their minds when they Bond. You were about to, but you didn't. How?"

I sigh and hang my head down. Do I really have to do this? I'd rather have round two with the Dragon Queen.

"I'm a Deadly Nadder." I explain.

"So?"

"No, you don't understand. That Dragon, specifically _that _Dragon, is why I have to be a Viking."

Hiccup gives me a questioning look and I look down, unwilling or unable, I'm not quite sure, to meet his eyes when I talk of my weakness. "When I was little, my parents were killed and taken by a flock of Deadly Nadders. When I went to live with my uncle, he Bonded a few years later with an Ancestral Flightmare. I am alone because of Dragons. But ever since the first incident, I can't..."

I physically _can't _say that I'm afraid of Nadders. My mind is trained- programmed- to deny any such thoughts of weakness. Fear is one such.

"It's okay, Astrid. I understand," Hiccup says.

I swallow and nod. "When I saw what I I had become...I realized that I was a monster. I don't want to be a monster. I have too many things to do. I have to fight it. I wasn't me, and I don't want to lose myself. Now, I don't have a choice. I can't go back like this. I can't be a Dragon, either. The Dragon Queen was right, I'm always going to be stuck between worlds. I don't belong anywhere."

I choke off. Mother of Odin, I can_not _be about to cry! I haven't cried since I was six years old, max. I do not cry!

And yet, I can't stop the burning in my eyes- no fire excuse this time- from surfacing, and a single tear makes its way down my cheek. I furiously rub it off but I know that he's seen.

"Gods I hate this," I say. "I don't want to be a beast, I don't want to be a monster. I don't want to be a _Dragon._"

Hiccup smiles softly at me.

He points to the water.

"Look."

I sniff and cautiously wander over to the edge.

When I peer down into it, my blonde hair is just that- blonde hair, my arms are the same skinny but muscular arms they have always been, I don't have a tail with spikes on it. The gold in my eyes seemingly drains out, leaving a shade of gray that slowly fades into a familiar blue.

"What- how- I don't understand..."

Hiccup comes up behind me.

"Astrid, you're a miracle," he says plainly, as if he were telling me that the sky was blue.

"But, I don't-"

"You won," he says softly.

"You mean...I'm not a Deadly Nadder anymore?" I ask, bewildered.

"Well, I wouldn't say that," he points with his eyes down at the insides of my wrists. The scales are still there, only now they are a light blue. I don't mind, though. I'm a not a Dragon, if only not yet.

"This is incredible!" I shout, cheering. I don't have to worry about any of this!

"I have never seen this before," Hiccup admits.

I suppose that Vikings are just as oblivious and passive towards the acclaimed Night Fury as Dragons are. As a Dragon, I shunned him for not behaving the same way I was, and therefore didn't notice nor care when he was panicked. Right now, I don't see the sadness his wings and ear flaps, or the small argument going on in his eyes. If I did notice, I wonder if I would have thought about whether he liked being invisible or not. Nobody really knew him. In a way, he didn't belong anywhere either. Invisible, whether he meant to be or not. But I don't notice, so I don't wonder.

"Wait...Hiccup, you flew on your own!" I exclaim.

"Yeah, I did... I did..." Hiccup slowly comes to realization.

"You flew, Toothless!" I playfully push his shoulder, but I can see his eyes lighting up. He won't have to be grounded anymore! He can fly now!

He looks down at his hands, flexing his fingers. Then, he experimentally launches himself in the air. His fingers click expertly as they navigate the gears, reaching down and falling for only a second before he's back to soaring and dipping and diving through the air.

I cheer him on, and he happily lands down a bit heavily right in front of me.

"How did that feel?" I ask.

"It felt...amazing," he replies, breathless.

I smile at him. His eyes are slightly dilated, looking very Dragon.

"Astrid, I..."

"What?" I ask after he trails off and seems like he won't begin again. I hope he's about to thank me for all the work I put into that. He better be.

"I have to say..."

"What?" I push.

He lifts his eyes to look into mine. I start to lose myself (not in the Dragon Queen way) in his eyes. I don't know why they are green. All Dragons' eyes are yellow- I mean, gold- and that should mean something, right? He's extraordinary, too. Just like me...

I should ask about his mother and the Dragons. I don't.

Suddenly, I remember everything that I had just confessed to him. About the Deadly Nadders, about becoming a mindless beast... I hadn't even thought of how Hiccup felt when he heard me say those things...

But I shouldn't care.

And that's what I keep reminding myself when I begin, "Hiccup-" and he cuts me off by vaulting into the air like a flash of black lightning, flapping his wings and using the speed of the Night Fury he is to carry himself as far away as possible. That's what I keep reminding myself when I wait here for nearly the whole night for him to come back and say goodbye. That's what I keep reminding myself when he doesn't.

That's what I keep repeating, what I keep telling myself, what I keep drilling into my head for days afterwards. _I shouldn't care._

I also keep denying that I really do.

I'll tell you my new biggest secret (and if you tell a single soul- Dragon or Viking- then I will personally slit your throat with my battle axe): I am lying.

* * *

><p><strong>Well, I feel like this isn't really a good chapter but after rereading it, I feel sad, dis-contorted, confused, angry, happy (not very but a little bit), like the world around me is spinning, etc., so I guess that means that I actually did do a good job. I hope Astrid's OOCness wasn't too off-putting. Oh well, as long as you like it, right? Haha, not really, but you get the jest.<strong>

**By the way, thanks for the crazy amount of reviews you all!**

**To that one guest (you know who you are... I hope): my major apologies, but as of right now, it looks like you won't get an explanation until at least three more chapters so can I maybe have an extension of a deadline? Please?**

**Alright, see you all this Wednesday. Keep calm and Bond with an Ancestral Dragon! (Just pretend that works.)**


	11. How To Use Your Advantages

It's been three days, and feeling sorry for myself only lasts so long before my default emotion, anger, sets in. I suppose it's just Viking nature. It's not like I can help it, because that's what I am. Hiccup is a Dragon, he does not belong in my world. I am a Viking, I do not belong in his. After all, that was the plan, right? I taught him to fly again in exchange for keeping me secret? That's what it was, and that's all there is. Thinking that he had become my friend was just deceiving myself. We could never be friends. It's not in our chemical makeup. I mean, we didn't kill each other, and maybe I did think that he had become my friend, but what else can you expect from a Dragon?

Speaking of Dragons, luckily Bonding and Turning back again hasn't brought any sudden changes, other than the scales turning blue and an interesting craving for chicken.

"Astrid, wake up-"

Gobber cuts himself off when I slam my door open, nearly hitting him square in the face.

"Well you're up bright and early," he comments, rubbing his jaw where it narrowly missed being hit.

I grunt in response and swing my axe over my shoulder. I'm not in the mood to talk, which I haven't been lately, but if he's noticed he hasn't said anything.

"Where you off to?" he hobbles behind me, but I walk faster.

"Training," I say curtly, grabbing a cup of mead from the table and downing it in one swig. I wipe my mouth with the back of my arm wrappings rather un-ladylike. "I'll be back in time for Training."

I'm out of the house, stumbling through the forge, and emerging in the brisk, cold Berk air before he gets the chance to speak.

Walking through the village, I keep my eyes down. It's not like I'm hiding anything, but when you've Bonded with a Dragon, it's kind of hard to act unsuspicious. Luckily, I normally march to my own beat, so nobody finds anything off.

_Hiccup would... _I think before I can vanish the contaminated thought from my mind.

_Well that dreaded Night Fury isn't here, now, is he? _I think back sourly. I also remind myself that I. Don't. Care.

"Stupid Dragons," I mutter, glaring at whatever happens to tick me off. (Perhaps the sky, simply because it isn't going to bring my not-friend back.)

After all these weeks of light training and a broken wrist, my throwing arm is a little weak. I'd been so busy that I hadn't had proper workouts in ages, and I intend to fix that in the span of this week, as nothing can be accomplished in one day.

The rest of the morning is spent between me, my axe, and a gaggle of some unfortunate trees.

* * *

><p>"Astrid, you're up against the Gronkle today," Gobber announces.<p>

I nod once, showing that I had heard. My time in the ring has been getting less and less. All the Dragons seem to want to come at me, and I'm plenty fast enough to knock them out before they even get the chance to strike or fire.

I'm first. Honestly, the Gronkle is easy. It's slow and not very quick-witted. They have a low shot limit, which makes things easier. All I have to survive is six shots before I'm golden, and even then I can get the job done in two.

The other teens file out of the arena, crowding the edges to watch my round. The twins are shuffling around, Fishlegs is scrawling something down on some paper that I think is supposed to be a drawing (don't tell him but I've seen him draw and the boy can't scribble a stick figure to save his life) and Eret stoically watches me while ignoring Snotlout boast about his latest "accomplishment." This is exactly why I prefer Hiccup- I mean, to be alone. Give me a break, it's only been three days!

Gobber wishes me good luck before flipping the switch. The Gronkle comes bursting out, her ugly yellow-but-really-golden eyes are slit with anger from being woken from her nap. She sways on her wings, her bulky figure crashing into the walls of the arena clumsily.

It soon focuses on me, and I raise my axe. The Gronkle uneasily tastes the air, its jaw unhinging to reveal a set of razor sharp fangs.

Suddenly, it charges.

All I see are its eyes.

Gold, gold, gold. Just like mine were, just like mine were, just like mine were...

Just like Hiccup's weren't.

I freeze for a moment too long, and my element of surprise is shoved out the window. I scream at it and run to it. The Gronkle's eyes hesitate when it catches the glimmer of my axe, and I can see that it knows that I will kill it. I'm not really going to, but you can't really blame the Dragon in this case.

_Do it, Astrid. Come on. It's not like you're killing it. It's not like it's Hiccup._

But the thing is, it is kind of like Hiccup. I'm not saying that he's still my friend, but I am saying that I can't attack a defenseless Dragon, especially when it's done nothing wrong. Maybe it's just Hiccup out there who's different, who still has his mind, but this Dragon is scared right now, and I can see it in its eyes.

Too late, the look changes and the Dragon's eyes change. They are once again thin slits, and its hands begin to glow an orange-red. I realize my mistake and quickly swing my axe, but before I can, the Gronkle charges me head on, knocking me to the ground and pinning me there, growling in my face with its rancid breath.

"Never trust a Dragon," I hiss at it, angry. The Dragon growls, but something catches its attention before it fires, and it quickly begins to sniff around me.

"Astrid!" I hear the others call, but they're too far away and won't be in time. I'm hoping I can figure something out so I don't get killed by the time they get to me.

I try to wiggle my arms free, and I'm so close, but the Dragon's hold is too tight. I grunt with the effort and it strains my limbs, but I can't give up. The Gronkle paws at my waist, and I freeze. I mean, seriously, it's a little (a very, very lot) uncomfortable and Dragon or not, it shouldn't be anywhere near my waist.

_Go away, get away, don't kill me, please, don't kill me, I can't die like this, just get away, get away, get away! _I plead/scream in my mind, still frantically wiggling.

Suddenly, the Dragon goes stiff. Its eyes widen in a dazed, glazed over expression, then it goes limp.

_Oh sweet baby Thor in a thunderstorm, this Dragon is going to faint!_

I struggle even harder, and with the loss of strength, I quickly wriggle out from underneath the Dragon, right in time for it to crash to the ground.

The Gronkle's still awake as far as I can tell, but it's like it's...asleep? Really, really, really content? I have no idea what just happened. Something drops and clangs against the ground, echoing through the whole arena. Breathing hard, I look over, and the teens and Gobber are just staring at me like I've sprouted wings...okay, not the best crack at a joke I've ever made.

I think it was Fishlegs who dropped his pencil.

"What. Are you guys. Staring at?" I growl in between breaths.

"I've never seen a Gronkle do that," Fishlegs states, both thoughtful and bewildered. "How did you do that?"

I don't have an answer to the question they all want to know, so instead of coming up with an excuse on the fly, I turn my head away, grab my axe, and stalk out of the arena.

Once I'm gone from sight, I break into a run. I don't know what caused the Gronkle to just faint like that. I wanted it to get away, to no kill me, and then that happened... Gods, Astrid, think of the facts.

Okay, so, it attacked me, then didn't blast me for some reason... it seemed distracted with smelling something. On me. Smelling. Hmm.

I decide that now might be a good time for a bath. It's not like a whole other Valkyries and shield maidens use the washhouse daily. I may be a Viking but I sincerely believe that good hygiene is of upmost importance. That and I can't get sick from hyperthermia or germs at all because I can't and I won't take a sick day.

My axe goes with me as I head to the washhouse, keeping an eye out for Vikings searching for me. The ones that pass don't meet my eye anyway. I guess there are some perks to having such a sob story of a background and a cursed family name.

My face burns with shame when I realize that the Deadly Nadder has only increased the misfortune its brought to my family. _Good,_ I think. _I should be feeling bloody awful._

I dress down and change into a night dress, the one I rarely use, and dump my clothes on a bench. I have to spend a few minutes heating up the water but it's totally worth it when I get in and the warm, soothing water washes over me and I feel like I can relax. I keep my arms out of the water with my wrappings still on, just in case someone does show up.

It's a nice relaxing place, just being in the warm water. It's not like I have any other place to relax.

After some time later, I dry myself off with a large cloth and slip into my nightdress once again. My clothes are dirty, so I'll have to wash my shirt and leggings with the remainder of the warm water and scrub off my leather skirt with some oils.

My shirt and leggings don't take long, and before I know it, I have them hanging on the racks to dry. My skirt is another story, as the thing is caked with mud and dirt from the arena and could use a good conditioning. I take a scrub brush to it for a few minutes, breaking into a sweat by the time I'm done. Before I wash it out with water, I go through the pockets attached to my belt, making sure nothing gets damaged.

That's when the grass flutters out.

It's dry and crinkled, nearly colorless. I pick it up. I remember this. I allow myself to think back to when Hiccup and I had found this. It was like catnip for Dragons...Dragon nip, I called it. That must have been what the Gronkle responded to, and why all the other Dragons have been deliberately singling me out! I always knocked them out before they got too close, so I never remembered until now, I guess. Dragon nip. Who knew?

I suppose it's technically cheating. Having it makes me more of a target, giving me more chances for them to attack, as well as if I don't manage to knock them out, a failsafe way to make it out alive. I don't want an unfair advantage, I want to win my right fair and square.

I pick up the grass, preparing to toss it into the drain pipe. I pause, just before sprinkling it in. I don't know why, but I can't get rid of it. It's so annoying. But, how bad can it be? If it gives me just a little advantage, I might as well take it, right? There's nothing wrong or suspicious about having a few blades of dead grass around in your pocket.

The scent has dulled largely when I bring it to my nose to smell, but it is still strangely pleasurable. I wonder if it's just to Dragons. They have sharper senses of smell, so it makes sense that the Gronkle would sniff it out when I could no longer.

I sigh heavily, placing the grass back in the pouch. Cleaning can wait. I want to go test it out.

Luckily, it's quite warm in the washhouse so I don't have to wait long for my clothes to dry. I quickly change and grab my axe, rushing back out to the village. It's nearing dusk, so I won't have much time. I'm normally out late so it won't come as a surprise to Gobber when he has to leave my dinner outside my bedroom door, but I still don't have any time to waste.

I shuffle over, wishing that all my metal and shoulder pads didn't make so much noise.

The arena is quiet, and nobody's there. I still give everything a double check before I deem it all clear and enter the arena. My footsteps echo around the circular dome, the metal chains seem to rattle with every step and my metal seems even more noisy. Everything is just so _loud._

I check to see that all the doors are closed. It's dark now, I'm wasting precious time.

I look at my axe, remembering the reflection that brought me back to my senses when I had Bonded. I wonder...

This is a bad idea. I mean a really, really, really bad idea, and it goes against everything I've ever told myself. Still, I can't help but want to know. I can handle it this time, I know I can.

I lay my axe down and slowly unwrap my scales. I feel like I'm doing something out of code. Oh wait, I am. But there's nothing saying that if I haven't Bonded I have to be killed. Nobody's ever taken this long to Bond.

I suck in a breath and tilt forward on my tiptoes, then rock back.

"Alright, Astrid. Remember who you are. You are a Viking, and you are not a Dragon. You can do this," I blow out through a small hole in my mouth, trying to focus on Draconic thoughts. It's a little harder than one might imagine, as all my brain's ever been trained to do is _not _think about Dragons.

"Okay. Ready?" I ask to no one in particular. I try to breathe evenly, making sure no one's watching one final time.

"Bond," I command myself, stretching out my arms and squeezing my eyes shut.

My scales tingle at the alien exposure to the crisp, cold air, but nothing more. Nothing happens.

I pull my arms back in, checking for anything. Nothing.

I try once more, trying as hard as I can. Again, nothing. And again, and again, and again.

"Maybe it's for the best," I say out loud. And it should be. I should be overjoyed that I can't Bond when I actually try wholeheartedly to. But for some reason, I'm not washed over with relief like I know I should be. I rewrap my arms, my blue scales disappearing to the world. I am once again Astrid Hofferson, the tough Viking who lost her family to the Dragons. I am no longer Astrid, the scared girl who is turning into a Dragon. For one scary moment, I'm not quite sure who I would miss more if I got stuck as one or the other. But scary moments only last for so long, because I am a Viking. It's all I've ever wanted to be. My future is bright, I'm not jeopardizing it for anything.

I breathe out once again, watching the air turn it into fog. In the trick of the light (er, I mean, dark), it looks like the flicker of a flame before it disperses.

_Now for what I really came here for._

I take out the blades of Dragon nip, taking a whiff myself just to make sure the scent is still there. It is, though faint, I'm sure it will be plenty strong for a Dragon. I had been doing some research about the five most common Dragons we have in Berk, and the- gulp- Deadly Nadder seems to be the one with the best sense of smell. I'm not going to admit a petty fear to anyone- least of all myself, so the Deadly Nadder it will be.

"Stick to its blind spot," I remind myself, heaving up the wood. At the very last minute, I think, _this is a really, really bad idea._

Well a little late for that one, now, don't you think?

The Nadder bursts out, crying out as loud as it can. I immediately press my hands to my ears.

"Shut up, they'll hear!" I cry. The purple Nadder flies about, frantically rattling the chains as it tries desperately to escape.

People are sure to hear, how can they not? With that Dragon's shrieking...

"Ugh, enough!" I shout, allowing whatever it is inside me out and shooting my hands out towards the Nadder squawking above the ground. A white hot fire tinged with orange comes firing out and towards the Dragon, effectively shutting it up by knocking it to the ground.

There is silence for a moment, and I can't believe that nobody has come running. I guess I got lucky. I'll have to do better, luck can only get a Viking so far.

The Dragon groans, reminding me that its humanity is male.

"Oh, sorry," I tell it in a whisper-yell. I'm still slightly frazzled because, hello? I just shot freaking _magnesium flames _from my hands!

Not that I haven't done it before, but still. It's a little freaky.

He groans again and picks himself up, shaking out hiss wings and dragging hiss spine tail across the ground. At first, he starts to preen- vain Dragon- then remembers that there's someone else with him.

The Nadder slowly turns its golden gaze to me, laying his wings flat and sizing me up. He knows me from Dragon Training, so I don't know why he's so bold. I must have beaten him at least a dozen times. He takes a timid step towards me, his spines raised and poised to strike.

"Hey, easy," I take a step back, showing it my hands. Hopefully it will tell the Dragon that I didn't really mean to blast him out of the sky and don't intend to again. "Please be quiet, they'll hear you...and they'll put you back in the cage."

Somehow, the Nadder seems to understand this, as he perks up and looks around, taking extra precaution to be quiet.

"There you go, easy," I tell it.

Oh dear gods, if my parents and Uncle Finn could see me now. Not only being in the same arena without attacking a Dragon- a Deadly Nadder, no less!- but actually talking to it. Oh my, what shame am I.

Well, I'm already tied to this mast, might as well make it to the end of the world.

I reach up with my left hand, the Nadder's eyes narrowed and watching my every move. I slowly take my axe out. He leans low to the ground, like he's preparing to attack.

Very, very slowly, I set the axe down on the ground.

"I'm not going to hurt you," I tell the Nadder. He seems to recognize it, and drops his caution. He goes back to preening his wings, and I let out a breath.

Also painstakingly slowly, I make my way around to the Nadder's side. Completely away from its blind spot, the very same advice I gave to myself not two minutes ago.

The Nadder pauses, but doesn't look up. I pause as well, and after a moment, he proceeds, paying me no mind.

I keep inching forward, reaching in my belt for the Dragon nip. As soon as I open my pouch, the Dragon's head snaps up.

"What's this, huh?" I ask, smiling just slightly. I have his full attention now, and he looks like he wants to take a step towards me. I know he can smell it.

He cackles, his eyes widening with each passing second.

Suddenly, he charges at me. It takes all my willpower not to run to my axe and defend myself. But he's not a threat. That's what I keep reminding myself as a wild borne, trapped for decades Nadder comes running at me with his wings spread and his fanged mouth opened.

But it stops just before it gets to me, and again, I have to restrain myself from moving when it tilts its head to the side to look at me.

"Here," I offer the Dragon nip to it. The Dragon inhales the air, leaning forward. I bend down to scatter it on the ground, then take a few scurried steps back. The Nadder gets down on its hands and knees, smelling the ground a little before cackling in delight and rolling around.

I have to stifle a laugh, it's not like the Dragon doesn't look ridiculous. Even with the wings, he still kind of looks like a Viking, and seeing a fully grown Viking rolling around on the ground is not exactly a common sight.

But I've learned what I wanted to know, now for the time to go.

Great. I didn't exactly get to this in the entire ordeal...

How to get it back? Come on, think, think. The perfect memory comes to mind.

_"See? All gone."_

_"You sure?"_

_"Yes. I'm sorry, I didn't know you were afraid of eels."_

_"Most Dragons are..."_

"I've got just the thing," I say, quickly running and sneaking out under the iron door. It takes a little longer than I would have liked, but eventually, I find it.

I go rushing back into the arena, where the Nadder is still rolling around in glee.

"Alright," I say as loudly as I dare. The Dragon sends me an unhappy look but otherwise doesn't pay attention.

"I have to ask you to go back into your cage," I tell it. He seems to understand that. He growls protectively, warning me by raising the spines on his tail. "You asked for it."

I bring the eel out from behind my back, and the Dragon growls, reluctant to show fear.

"Go on," I take a step towards it and the Nadder backs up. I herd it into its cage, where eventually I throw the eel in so I can close the door. Right before I close the door, I happen to catch sight of the Dragon.

It is really the most pitiful thing I have ever seen.

The Dragon has his arms folded around his knees as he cowers in the corner, with his wings wrapped around. His tail curls up, the spines completely harmless while sheathed. But the saddest part is his face. His golden eyes are sorrowful, as if he really knew that this would happen. It only adds to the fear, and he looks just...scared. Like Hiccup had been. Like I had been.

I tear my gaze away, furrowing my brow. It's not like I could do anything for the Dragon.

But that's when I hear it.

One, small, sniffle in the dark, in the hushed quiet. The impossible has already happened, I'm beyond impossible. But this is just... I don't even have the words to describe it. I can't help but feel pity down to my very core as I realize that the Dragon is _crying. _Who knows how many nights it happens? Who knows if all the Dragons cry to themselves, for their lost freedom, for their lost families, for their lost everything, at night? Because, what we Vikings keep forgetting is that they're only half Dragon. That means that they're half Viking as well, and therefore half human. We all have our fears, even Dragons. But combine it with the animalistic instincts and the heart wrenching emotions of humanity and I can't imagine having to cope.

What is wrong with me? I'm not usually so emotional. I'm rock hard, a brick, a wall, a castle made of stone. Why am I feeling pity for a Dragon?

_Because while it's a Dragon, it's still a human being._

Yes, I've been over this.

And as the Nadder softly weeps in its cage, I finally realize that Dragons, they're not really so bad. In the end, they're not so different from us.

I may be the stone warrior, but I'm still a human being, too. Which is why I fling open the doors, stalking over to the iron gates and wrenching them open. I march back over and snatch the eel away, stepping to the side.

The Nadder looks up from sobbing to give me a confused look.

"Go," I say.

It blinks.

"Get out of here!" I shout at it.

It begins to dawn on the Nadder that he's just been given a free ticket to, well, freedom, and he stands, gazing longingly at the open night sky.

"Go," I repeat. "I'll take care of your cage."

I summon all the fury and emotion and plain out frustration that I've been feeling for the past three days, and hurl it at the cage doors. They blast in one brilliant explosion, making it look like a decent and successful jailbreak.

I turn to find the Nadder pitifully stumbling its way to the gates, a determined look in its eyes.

There goes the Dragon to freedom, never to look back on its prison again. I find it shocking how much I envy that Dragon.

Shouts ring around the village. Sure, they all woke to _that _but not the shrieking cries of a Dragon as it flew around the arena, because that wouldn't make sense at all.

"Hurry!" I tell it, following it out at a reasonable distance. When it leaves, I can't be here when they come to see that one of their Dragons has escaped, nor do I want to be.

But even more to my surprise, right before it leaves, the Nadder stops and turns around.

It looks into my eyes, and I could swear that for an eighth of a half of a second, its eyes flicker blue.

"Th-th-tha-ank yo-ou, A-A-A-Ast-tri-tr-id." he speaks. _Speaks._

Then the Nadder throws himself into the skies and doesn't look back, leaving me as bewildered as I've ever been.

He said my name.

The shouts become louder, and I grab my axe before darting out of the arena. Like the Nadder, I don't look back as I run the long way home through the forest.

He said my name.

Of course he must have heard it during Training, but he had bothered to try and learn it. Stoick and Gobber always told that the Dragons they had were wild borne only. But the Dragon not only knew my name, but how to say 'thank you.' Perhaps...perhaps, was there hope for the future of Dragons, after all?

I can't think too much on it. Right now, I have more important issues to deal with. Maybe some other unfortunate Viking can deal with the Dragons, but it's not going to be me. I can't, and I won't.

But that doesn't change the fact that he still said my name.

* * *

><p><strong>Can I just skip the apologies and fly away on my Ancestral Flightmare before you all come hunting me down with pitchforks and fire? I am really sorry that I left you all hanging for two weeks, and then plopped a filler chapter on you, but hopefully it was a good filler chapter, huh?<strong>

**Lots of you are going to be like, why didn't Astrid free all the other Dragons? Well, she didn't, so please don't flame up on me. There are reasons, everybody! So, this is going to be my update for the week, I have a huge English paper I have to worry about, but hopefully after this week, keep your fingers crossed that I can begin on an actual update-ever-Wednesday-schedule.**

**Oh, and to Rumbling Night Cutter, I promised a detailed description of Hiccup's prosthetic because it's a little unclear, but, as you can read, Hiccup's not in this chapter so it's a little hard. When Hiccup comes back I'll give you one, does that work for everyone?**

**Anyway, thanks for sticking with my excruciating lack of updates and hope you all are enjoying the story so far! **


	12. How To Realize You're Not The Only One

Here's the thing; I'm not a hero. I'm not a chief, I'm not a Dragon Queen, and I'm really not a hero. Which is why I know that it's not my responsibility to solve the case of the Dragons. And that's why I eventually dismissed the Deadly Nadder who said my name from my mind altogether.

However, the fact that the Nadder had escaped is still causing quite the ruckus. Luckily, nobody had seen me running away. All night long, the Deadly Nadder had been on my mind. The other Vikings have accepted that the Dragon had made a successful escape. Nobody would think that one of their own had helped it, and why should they? There were the scorch marks to prove it, and Vikings hated Dragons. That's the way it's always been, that's the way it always will be.

_Not always, _my mind whispers.

_You shut up, _I think back.

My axe rests upon my shoulder as I walk through town. My arm wrappings are filthy, and I'll have to get new ones, soon. I don't like the thought of that. They'll want to size my arms for perfection when I just want to buy a pair and move on, who cares about perfection when it comes to clothes?

While taking the long way home last night, I had stopped by the fields where Hiccup and I had crashed and picked a fresh new batch of Dragon nip. Training's in a few minutes so I figure I'll be able to use it.

On the way, I pause to stop behind the house of a random Viking. There, I just take a deep breath.

"Today's the day," I breathe, blowing my bangs out of my face. "This time. This time, for sure."

Today's the last day of Training. And I'm the star student. There is no doubt that I'm going to have to kill the Nightmare. I'm afraid that I won't be able to kill the Dragon, but I can't afford not to. I double check the pouch around my waits, making sure that it's stuffed with Dragon nip. Not that I'd need it.

_Defeat the Dragon, today, Astrid. That's all you have to do. Don't think about the Nightmare. __Dragons aren't Hiccup. They don't all speak. The Nadder was just something that happened. You will defeat the Dragon, you will become a true Viking, and you will not succumb to the Dragon inside you._

Easier said than done, just saying.

However, the Dragon inside me had been particularly quiet. It hasn't said anything. I'm a little concerned, in all honesty. It's not because I miss it, but what if it's biding its time and strength to break out at the most inopportune moment?

But I can control it. It took a Dragon Queen to bring it out, I can keep it in.

"You're ready. You can do this."

"Astrid!" Gobber calls when I make my way to the crowded arena. Everyone wants to see the last part of Dragon Training and who will get the honor of killing the Monstrous Nightmare. "There you are, lass. Thought for a minute you were gonna skip out."

"Who me? Never," I respond, faking a smile. He takes it as I'm nervous.

"Hey, don't tell the others, but you don't need to be nervous. You've got the best chance out there."

I don't tell him that that's exactly what I'm afraid and proud of. How two seemingly opposite emotions can combine into a perfectly logical explanation in beyond me. Then again, I was never too good at logic, anyway.

I just give a small nod, narrowing my eyes so he has no chance at seeing the battle behind them.

The arena is scattered with wooden barriers, I'm assuming so we can hide behind them. The other teens are goofing off in the corner. Well, most of them. Eret is standing against the wall. To be perfectly honest, he doesn't seem too interested in Dragon fighting. He's never motivated enough. For such a strong guy, he's awfully wary of frontal assaults.

"Let the training begin!" Gobber shouts from above the ring that I am now in. I don't know where the other teens are, but I suppose that's the point.

I hear the creaking of the boards being removed from somewhere and I know the Dragon's going to be coming out soon. I don't hear the tiny caw of the Terror, and the Nightmare's the one we'll be facing tomorrow. It doesn't sound like the Nadder- oh, right.

So that leaves Gronkle or Zippleback.

"Please be a Gronkle, please a Gronkle," I whisper, leaning against the barrier and shutting my eyes. Gronkles seemed especially susceptible to the Dragon nip and they're easy enough to take down.

I peek out behind and see a thin layer on green tinted gas. A flash of a golden eye flies across my vision and I jerk back.

"Son of a half troll," I mumble unhappily. It just had to be the Zippleback. In all honesty, after encountering the male Nadder, the species didn't seem so bad. I could think of them and no longer be reminded of my parents. I was just reminded of...well, I hate to admit it, but I'm reminded of me.

And as much as I'll deny it and fight it and scratch at it, the 'me' that I'm reminded of isn't all that bad.

That just left Zipplebacks. Don't get me wrong, I don't hate them with a burning passion, but they were difficult. Not necessarily smart, but you know what they say, two heads, twice the status. Pictures of an Ancestral Zippleback were honestly a bit horrifying, and I can't imagine something having two heads. That's just so unnaturally wrong that my mind can't wrap around it. I can get the pairs thing, but the flying solo without each other doesn't make sense. By all definition, they should be able to fly just fine without another Zippleback, but they just...can't.

I remember a couple years ago, when I was watching the bigger Vikings go after Dragon, someone shot down a Zippleback. The gas breather, I think. The other one flapped its wings, but it was too shocked to think to soar away. It just kept flapping madly but falling faster and faster until it hit the ground. It kept trying to launch back into the air but it just couldn't fly.

At the time, I thought that maybe a Zippleback should be my first aim at a kill. If I get one, the other can't get away. Plus, I'd have two Dragons on my belt. But now, for a Dragon not so abundant in the mental area, they work well. It's like they can read each other's mind, yet act on their own. The feat may seem amazing, but it just doesn't make sense.

Maybe it's all in their mind.

I hear Fishlegs scream in a very undignified manner and roll my eyes. Guess that's my cue.

I quickly stand up and summersault over to the next barrier. Alright, first off, know the Dragon you're facing. Zippleback, they're a pair. One can't fly without another head, so they're downed when apart.

I can't remember how far apart they have to be... Oh great. Just my day, the one time my brain fails me to remember something. Might as well think that it's a good idea to separate them, but they will fight to the very end to keep that from happening, so that's a no-go.

Best way to defeat them? Um...let them get the Dragon nip and club them on the head?

Well, it's the only plan I've got.

I leap to another barrier and peak out. I can see Tuffnut attempting to battle one head, but the Dragon keeps zooming around with a look that looks despicably like glee.. This is a stealth Dragon, the only way to beat it is to best it at its own game.

They're both entertaining themselves with Tuffnut, so I have a clear path straight behind them. I waist no time in ducking and diving between the barriers, waiting until I'm right behind one.

I'm only a few barriers away when the smell reaches one of them. I can hear the Zippleback take a whiff of the air, breathing in contently.

"Come on," I murmur. I count to three before standing up and swinging with the sharp side down, so I'll only whack into something and not cleave their head straight off. Not that I've ever done that. Never gotten the chance, yet.

I hit home, feeling something heavy. At the same time, the arena goes silent. A blast of Zippleback gas must have made its way into the air, because it settles around the gate. When it clear, the gate is gone, knocked over with scorch marks.

I almost take a step back. Looking down, one of the Zipplebacks is lying on the floor, completely still. For a moment I want to check its heartbeat, but I refrain. The gates were open. Everyone's looking at the Zipplebacks because they just blasted the gates off the arena.

No one moves, not even the one Dragon that's still conscious. It golden eyes are slit and it's looking straight at the gate. This one is female. Surprisingly, she's not too buff. Merely muscular. The Zippleback on the ground is male, but he's still not moving. The female has a bit more blue around her scales and on the tips of her wings, where the male is more green. This is really the first time I've ever looked at them.

The female suddenly croaks, loudly, letting a few wisps of green, toxic gas unfurl from her fingertips. Gas breather. That means that the unconscious male is the gas igniter. Not entirely sure why that matters.

She lifts her head abruptly, calling out to the sky and raising her wings to full height. The Ancestral Zippleback had four legs, so they have their wings on their backs, right between their shoulder blades. Like the Night Fury.

No, no like the Night Fury. Because I don't even know what the actual Night Fury looks like. I'm not supposed to know that he's a boy my age, or that his mother is the Dragon Queen who terrorizes all the Dragons, and I'm certainly not supposed to be missing him because I. Don't. Know. Him.

The female Zippleback suddenly starts to run towards the exit. At first, nobody does anything. I'm shocked, really. But us Vikings are all stunned. Normally, we counter this with speed on the battlefield, but we're all a little unsure what to do. We've never had a Zippleback break free before.

She suddenly gets the room and she spreads her wings, frantically flapping them and... tripping and nearly falling.

She suddenly realizes that her second head is unconscious on the floor. She looks back and calls out to him, but he's still knocked out. She swivels her head to glance back out at the open gates.

That's when the Vikings suddenly realize what's going on, and they start pouring into the arena.

She stares back at the skies for one more second. She could leave. She can run, she doesn't need to fly to run away. She might be clumsy but even still she'd be faster than us Vikings. It's all in her blood. She's a Dragon. She should be out of there. She could easily find another head and be free from her unclear but inevitable death here with us. If she ran, she would make it. I guess that's why the Vikings suddenly snapped out of it. Me, myself, I'm still a little frozen.

If the female Zippleback ran, if she spread her arms and released a cloud of gas, she's be gone and there would be nothing stopping her from freedom. But her second head is still on the floor. She would not be able to fly until she found another head. It wouldn't be hard. There are plenty.

And yet, I may be the only one to show it, but I am not the only one surprised by what she does. The Zippleback turns away from the open gates and runs and fights her way through the sea of Vikings- back to her mate who would not be able to get away in time. Back to her unclear but inevitable death.

She snarls at the other Vikings while she stands protectively over her mate. With her trapped in an enclosed area and fighting off Vikings from one stance, it doesn't take long to overpower her. She and her mate are soon dragged back to their cages. I think the male's still alive. They wouldn't have put him back in if he wasn't.

Oh gods. The weight of what just happened hit me full in the face. I would have swayed, but my face was blank and my eyes expressionless. I would not let anyone into my head right now, so my body sort of shut itself down.

If I hadn't knocked out that Dragon, the Zipplebacks would be free right now. Who knows? Maybe they can talk, too. Maybe they conspired to escape together. But I ruined it. And now they're trapped.

A part of me says 'good. They're Dragons, they should be dead,' but what scares me is that a larger part of me feels guilty. Horribly guilty.

But the main reason of why I almost sway is the very reason that had everyone frozen. The Zipplebacks blasted their way to freedom.

But I know better.

Those gates didn't open because of the Zipplebacks' fire. No one would suspect this option because who in their right mind would help a couple of Dragons escape? No one, that's who. But the Dragons' fire didn't open the gate. Someone else did.

And that meant that I wasn't the only one who knew the truth about the Dragons.

I had to go see those Zipplebacks tonight

* * *

><p>After spending the rest of the day waiting for a reschedule and studying up on Zipplebacks from the Dragon Manual, it was starting to get dark.<p>

I chewed on a chicken leg in my room while flipping through the pages. I didn't notice that I had gone through almost all of the book before it was too late.

Night Fury.

Unknown, unknown, unknown.

How is it that we know so little about Hiccup? About the Dragons in general? Now that he was gone, there was no way I'd ever be able to go back to the nest and find out what the Dragon Queen meant when she talked about the Dragons' secret. I was a little too occupied with desire to serve her to think too much about what she was saying. Not my fault, though, blame the Nadder inside me.

Huh. Who would have thought that that'd be so easy to think? I mean, of course I would never say it, but it's gotten much too easy. I'll have to redouble my efforts.

I pushed the plate away and closed the book, tired of staring at the blank Night Fury pages. There's still so much I didn't know about Hiccup...

But I don't care, remember? Gah. Stupid brain. Always betraying me at the worst possible moments. Is it absolutely necessary we have these things?

Don't answer that.

Gobber has been banging away on weapons all day long. It seems like the Nadder jailbreak and the Zippleback almost-escape has everyone on edge. However, it's been great business for Gobber, as everyone is wanting an upgrade to their weapons. I feel kind of bad for not being able to help him, but if he knew what I was really up to, he wouldn't even want to be near me. The thought makes me burn with shame, but I force it down. I need to talk to those Zipplebacks. I'm just going to have to pray they can talk.

I slip down to the forge, listening to the steady, rhythmic beats of metal clanging against metal. I take a step, but unfortunately, Gobber sees me.

"Hello, Astrid," he greets.

"Uh...hey, Gobber."

"Got a load of business, want to help out?"

Okay, now I really feel bad.

"Sorry," I say slowly, "but I can't. I was going to go do some late night training."

"Ah, I see. Hey, don't tell anyone this, but tomorrow's gonna be the Gronkle." he smiles and winks at me.

The least I can do is give him a genuine smile. So I do. Although, I'm not quite sure if it looks right, because Gobber's smile twitches just slightly in one corner. Is it sad that I realize that I'm not even sure what my real smile feels like anymore? The life of a Viking. Except Gobber, but we all know he's special.

I dip my head down and quickly exit the forge, not wanting to stay any longer. I don't think I could handle it.

The walk is silent, and I don't have to worry about too many people out in the open. Which comes as a surprise to me, as I'd think that we would want to be on extra precaution but what do I know, right?

There is a replacement gate already set. It wouldn't hold against too many hits but it'll suffice for what I need.

I have an eel by the gate just in case this doesn't work, and a fresh sprig of Dragon nip in my pocket. Let's hope the Zipplebacks are in a cooperative mood tonight- for all of us.

Under the cover of night, I easily make my way into the dark arena. Once I'm in, the Training grounds are illuminated by the moon. When it's not cloudy, I've got to give it to Berk; it sure has some nice nights.

I waste no time in opening the cage with the Zipplebacks. Unlike the Nadder, they don't come racing out in a flurry of wings, scales, claws, and noise. In fact, they don't even come out at all. I slowly peer into their cage, scanning the darkness for two silhouettes. A pair of golden eyes meet mine.

I blink and step back. A second pair blinks open, their slit pupils focused directly on me.

"Easy, I'm not here to hurt you," I tell them.

One of the eyes makes a hissing noise and languidly comes out into the light. It's the female Zippleback. She takes another tentative step forward, like she's expecting a trap. Can't say that I blame her. Like a green serpent slithering out of its hole, she pokes her face out in the moonlight, eyes rapidly darting to and fro in hunt of danger. When she spies none, only then does she fully step out.

The Zippleback calls to her mate and he slithers out as well. The side of his head is dark in the night, and I cringe, sending a mental 'sorry'. I offer the fish to them when their focus settles back on me.

This time, it's the male who comes first.

I force my limbs to stay relaxed in their outstretched position, fixing my gaze on the ground so I won't have to stare at the Dragons before me. It's unnerving, being in the same enclosed area of Dragons. Just because I had successfully gone about and not gotten myself killed in front of two Dragons before doesn't mean that I'm happy to throw myself in front of another one, let alone two.

Unlike Hiccup, he slowly claws the fish out of my hands, shrinking back when it hits the ground. I take a few steps back so he can retrieve the fish and drag it back to his mate. They quickly devour it in ten seconds flat, licking their lips and lashing their tails at me. I don't know whether or not that's a good sign, so I take it as one and proceed with my plan. Or, what sounds like a plan to my mind and is really just a half-formed idea that I hope will work.

"Hi there," I say cautiously. The male gulps and produces a deep growling sound from his throat. It doesn't sound threatening and his eyes are widely dilated, so I continue. "In the arena, someone opened the gate, didn't they?"

The female flicks her head and beats her wings a couple of times. They both stare at me, giving no presentiment of understanding.

"Okay, do you know who helped you? Can you give me names?"

They both eye me. I can't read their gazes. There's nothing particularly human in their facial features that clue me in that they understand me.

"I promise, I'm not here to rat them out. I just want to know.

Nothing.

"Please?"

Nothing.

"Do you want to go back in your cages?"

They glance at me, but they aren't utterly concerned.

"Can you say something?" I throw my hands up in frustration.

"_Hrr,_" says the female, spraying a miniature cloud of green gas in the air. The male immediately lifts his head, lifting his wrist to send small sparks crackling out of his fingertips. The cloud explodes. It still doesn't make sense on how dependent on one another Zipplebacks truly are. I don't understand why they can't function properly without another Zippleback. They have wings, a way of protection, all the right Dragon properties, and yet they just...don't.

I sigh and sit down. I can't set the Zipplebacks free. That would cause too much suspicion. But they didn't help me. And I don't even know if they can.

"Ugh!" I cry out, slamming my fist into the wall and cringing when I realize too late what a bad idea that was.

All of a sudden, the Zipplebacks' eyes dilate into black slits, staring at me. They simultaneously stand, hissing. I don't realize it, but when I do, they don't look quite so harmless.

I stand as well, panicking only slightly. It wouldn't be fair to fight them, and the eel's over by the door. My axe is strapped to my back, but I don't want to use it unless absolutely necessary.

"Come on, now, I'm not here to hurt you. I brought you a fish, remember?"

The female raises her hands and gas shoots straight out at me, and the male is quick to send showers of crackling sparks following.

I leap out of the way. Ifcan keep them occupied...

"What was that?"

"I think it was the Dragons!"

"Are they escaping again?"

"Quick, to the arena!"

Okay, worst is coming. The stupid Dragons woke nearly the whole village! I run to a gate and use my axe to crank it open so I can slide underneath. An explosion sounds from behind me, where I was only moments ago.

I sneak into the shadows, running as fast as I can.

Of course I manage to trip going out, knocking over a whole set of weapons. Metal weapons.

"What was that?"

Screw subtly, I need to get out of there _fast._

I hear them behind me. I can't stop making noise! I push faster. I can outrun them, but they can track me and hear me. I'm really hoping they don't know who I am. If I parade through the village they'll find me, and they're chasing me into the woods. The only option is to...run further into the woods. The very same place I swore I wouldn't go again.

So what? I didn't want to see the reminder that I wasn't really all Viking, that some part of me was a Dragon- was turning into a Dragon. But this was my only option, and I know of a place to go for the night, or as long as I need to.

That was that, then. I was going back to the cove.

* * *

><p><strong>Really sorry for the rush at the very end, I am running out of time and need to do my homework. I'll try to go back and fix it later. Anyway, hello! On time now, right? Funny that I'm making Zipplebacks such a big character in this. Zipplebacks are honestly one of my least favorite Dragons from the movie... Oh well. It works, right?<strong>

**See you all next Wednesday, please let me know what you think! Thank you for the crazy amounts of Follows! Next chapter may or may not include what you all are waiting for...**


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